


The Boy Next Door

by AM505



Category: Arctic Monkeys, Last Shadow Puppets
Genre: Basement, Boys Kissing, Bullying, Captivity, Confinement, Corporal Punishment, Falling In Love, First Time, Friendship/Love, Grief/Mourning, Homophobia, Horror, I will try to avoid anything too graphic, Jealousy, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Punishment, Romance, Tags May Change, Teenagers, Torture, Tragedy, Violence, beatings, chained, milex - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2018-11-07 16:53:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 16
Words: 148,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11063166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AM505/pseuds/AM505
Summary: Miles is the new kid in school who befriends the boy next door to him, Alex. But just as a certain romance is developing between the two, a tragedy occurs: Alex loses both his parents in an accident. Miles and the others are desperately trying to be there for him, but as it turns out, life takes an even more sinister turn for their friend when a distant relative moves in to become Alex's new guardian.Miles has to find a way of protecting Alex before it's too late.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First of all, I feel like a few questions should be answered.
> 
> Yes, I am still going to do more Arctic O4 fics. I just felt like challenging myself in writing a longer story. I didn't necessarily want it to be a Milex story, but it just seemed to fit in so well with the plot.  
> Yes, this fic is probably going to be rather dark. I have tried to include as many warnings as I can for now, though others may be added along the way. Don't worry though, there is also going to be plenty of humour and friendship in this story.  
> And yes, this story is loosely based on The Girl Next Door by Jack Ketchum, though it will be much less sinister than the original story.
> 
> If you give the story a chance, I promise it won't be all that bad :-)

Being the new kid in school, Miles doesn’t expect anyone to be unconditionally nice to him. If they approach him, it’s because they want something from him, and if they sit next to him during lunch, it’s because they want half his pudding. No one pays him any real attention to him unless it’s in their own interest to do so. For that, Miles is partly grateful; his situation could have been so much worse. He’s seen other boys and girls being bullied and for very stupid reasons, too. Sometimes you are only chosen out of bad luck. Maybe you are just in the wrong place at the wrong time, that’s really all it takes sometimes. And so, in a sense, Miles will rather go unnoticed than ending up on someone’s list of enemies.

He thinks himself lucky until – one silly and ridiculously hectic Monday morning – he forgets to watch his steps. He’s speeding around the corner, hoping to make it to class before his teacher does, and consequently, he is unable to slow down and prevent the accident from happening. Running fast into another bloke (a taller, bigger bloke) that he’s never met before and who’s decided to round the corner at the exact same time as Miles, Miles gasps out loud as they bump into each other, hard, causing the other to spill a bottle of orange juice all over himself. Miles steps back immediately, his mouth hanging open with fear.

“Son of a bitch!” The other bloke shouts, looking down at his soaked t-shirt. “What the fuck is the matter with you? Are you a little wanker or something?”

The guy looks down at Miles with mean, angry eyes and his stare is forcing Miles to take a step backwards. He’s always been a coward, and he knows it. He hates confrontations. 

“I-I’m really sorry,” Miles stammers, “I didn’t see you there. I-I’m kinda in a rush…”

“Oh you’re in a rush, are you?” The bigger bloke spits. “Aren’t we all in a fuckin’ rush to get somewhere?” 

Before Miles can do or say anything, a smaller group of guys appear behind the other’s back, smirking and giggling at what they see. There are three of them, excluding the dude Miles has run into. So, in total, they are four people. Miles is one single person.

“Hey, Maffew,” one of them says laughing, “take it easy, man. What’s going on?”

The bloke who says this has got blond hair and piercing blue eyes, along with a pair of strong, bulky upper-arms. To his right stands an even bigger bloke with even bluer eyes and dark, curly hair. To his left, he’s accompanied by a lad who seems to be somewhat small in comparison; he’s got rich strands of messy, brown hair and big, doe eyes which make him appear innocent and harmless. He’s petite and skinny just like Miles, perhaps even more so, and for this reason, Miles feels automatically safer and less intimidated as he looks over at him. The lad is smiling and suddenly Miles realises – he’s beautiful. 

“I’ve got OJ all over my shirt,” groans the bloke Miles is still facing. Apparently his name is Matthew. “And it’s my favourite shirt as well!” 

This, however, only has the lads laughing even harder behind his back. 

“Your favourite shirt?” The big bloke with the dark, curly hair mocks him. “You mean the one that’s got the words The Funk Might Fracture Your Nose printed on it? The one that’s cost you like – uh, I dunno, a fiver?”

“Yes, it’s a pretty cool shirt, alright?” Matthew sneers. “Money has got nowt to do with it.”

“It’s not really that cool, though, is it?” This time, the slighter lad is the one teasing him. “Besides, orange juices washes off pretty easily, doesn’t it? I mean… At least I fink it does.” 

“Yeah…” Matthew wipes at his shirt a couple of times and begins to scratch at his own neck whilst he’s looking slightly embarrassed. “I guess it’s no biggie. Perhaps I was… overreacting a bit.” 

“I think you owe him an apology,” the same lad presses on. He smiles at Miles and nudges his friend slightly, forcing Matthew to take a step closer towards him. Matthew now faces Miles up close and Miles gulps. If the others hadn’t been there to lighten the mood and if the lad with the gorgeous smile and eyes darker than coffee beans hadn’t been looking at him so reassuringly, Miles might have just spun around and fled the hallway. 

However, Matthew reaches out his hand for him to shake and he clears his throat awkwardly. Despite his struggle, he’s about to make peace with him.

“Sorry about that,” Matthew mutters self-consciously, though he looks as though he means it, “accidents happen, right? It wasn’t your fault, so I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did.” 

Miles shakes the bigger bloke’s hand. Little by little, he shakes off his own nervousness.

“That’s alright,” Miles grins and tells him politely, “I’m really sorry about your shirt, though. It’s pretty cool – I would have been upset to see it ruined, too.”

With that, Matthew decides to break into a smile.

“Hey, maybe this fellow is pretty cool after all,” he says and turns around to look at his friends, “what’s your name, mate?” 

“Miles. Miles Kane.”

“I’m Matthew Helders, but you can call me Matt. And behind me is-“ 

“Jamie Cook,” says the blond guy and steps forward to shake Miles’s hand as well, “don’t call me Cookie, though.”

“Why would I call you Cookie-dough?” Miles frowns for a moment. “Oh – oh, you said ‘though’. My bad.” Miles blushes furiously and the lads all look at him as though he’s mental. “A-and ‘Cookie’… because of your surname… I get it now. Sorry.”

Miles crosses his arms over his chest and stares down at his own feet in embarrassment. This is exactly why everyone used to call him the ‘people-repeller’ at his old school. But before things aggravate and turn even more humiliating for him, another hand reaches out to greet him and rescue him at the same time.

“Don’t listen to Jameh, he loves it when we call him Cookie,” the smaller lad with the kind smile tells him, “I’m Alex, by the way. And this maverick over here is Nick O’Malley.” 

“Hi,” Nick tells him and nods his head briefly. 

“Alex, Nick,” Miles repeats awkwardly, “nice to meet you.”

Miles locks eyes with the lad whose hand he’s still shaking. Alex. When the two of them both look up at each other at the same time, Miles jerks and withdraws his hand with great shame. Alex, on the other hand, remains calm. 

“Where are you off to, Miles?” The blond fellow, Jamie, asks suddenly.

“Er – well, I’m supposed to be in Ms. Hayward’s class. For English. But I’m not entirely sure where the room is supposed to be,” Miles admits with an apologetic grin.

“First of all, you’re going in the wrong direction,” Alex interjects, laughing at Miles’s puzzled expression, “second of all, I’m in Ms. Hayward’s class, too. If you walk with me, I’ll show you the way.”

“Oh, thank God,” Miles exhales with relief, “thanks. I really appreciate it. I’m new around here, you see… So I don’t quite know my way around yet.”

“You don’t say…” Matt huffs with a smirk.

“Ignore him,” Alex smiles and pokes Matt with his elbow, “come on, let’s not be late for your first English class.”

He gestures for Miles to follow with and Miles is more than happy to comply.

“See you around, Miles!” Jamie shouts after them and Nick gives a small wave. “Alex – I’ll ring you later!”

“Sure thing, mate – I’ll see you noobs later!” Alex grins at his friends as they part and walk separate ways. Then he turns his attention back on Miles. “Sorry about that – I hope you didn’t feel completely overwhelmed by us, Miles.” 

“What? Oh no, not at all,” Miles laughs nervously, “it was actually kind of nice to get to talk to someone. I mean… You’re the first people who’ve properly introduced yourselves to me so far. I haven’t made too many acquaintances yet.”

“Is that so?” Alex looks him over carefully. “I find that hard to believe. People are usually more approachable than that. People are actually quite friendly around here.”

“That’s good to know.” Miles smiles slightly before feeling the blood return to his cheeks. “I dunno… I can be a bit shy, I guess.”

At that, Alex beams at him as though to tell him that there is no harm in that. 

“Don’t worry, Miles – people won’t mind you being shy,” Alex tells him kindly and pats his back, “anyway, the classroom’s just down this way.”

 

*

 

It turns out that Alex is liked and adored by most people in this school. As the two of them enter the classroom together, at least five of them wave their arms and greet Alex loudly. One of the girls – Miles soon learns that her name is Taylor – immediately waves Alex over by letting him know that she’s saved him a seat. She’s sat in the back of the classroom and as Alex is headed down towards her, Miles stays behind awkwardly, thinking that he isn’t included in her invitation. However, when Alex sees that Miles is standing still, he quickly grins and gestures for him to come with.

“Here, Miles,” Alex smiles at him, “there’s room for two.” 

Miles follows after gratefully. The blonde girl, Taylor, seems surprised to be joined by a second boy that she’s never met before, however, she greets Miles rather nicely and pretends that she wouldn’t rather have kept Alex to herself.

“Who’s your friend, Al?” She flicks her tongue and fixes her blue eyes on Miles.

“I’m Miles,” Miles tells her timidly, perhaps because he’s able to sense her disappointment, “Miles Kane. I’m new here.”

“I’m Taylor,” she says, though without offering her hand, “nice to meet you.”

As the class starts and Ms. Hayward walks in, it becomes evident that even the teacher loves Alex. And not without reason, either. He’s polite and he’s kind. He can be funny without offending anyone. He’s clever. He’s smart and he’s quick and though he hasn’t done most of his homework, he’s better at using his words than any other pupil in the room, it seems. Ms. Hayward doesn’t even tell him off for not having prepared that thoroughly. Perhaps Alex is the kind of scholar that doesn’t really need to study in order to keep up with the rest. 

“Did any of you get the chance to read Williamson’s article and analysis on “The Road”?” Ms. Hayward asks the class as she takes Cormac McCarthy’s book out. Miles did actually read the article, or at least half of it, but he wouldn’t know what to say on it, so he merely keeps his head down. “Does anyone remember what Williamson’s interpretation of The Son was? What does The Son symbolise as a character? Anybody?” 

Alex raises a hand, slowly, when no one else seems to have anything to say.

“Alex, you didn’t even read the article,” Ms. Hayward reminds him patiently. 

“But I read the book,” Alex tells her, “I fink it’s pretty obvious what The Son represents.”

“Well, go on then,” the teacher humours him. 

“He represents purity,” Alex states, “he was born after the apocalypse, so this is the only world he knows. Unlike The Man, his father, The Son is completely innocent and wants to believe that every person he meets can be good and deserves help. The Son doesn’t believe in killing others in order to survive. For that reason, he’s pure. And he’s the reason you want to keep reading the book, despite how depressing it is.”

Ms. Hayward looks over at Alex and hesitates before she speaks. “You say he’s the reason you keep reading the book? Why? Can you elaborate on that?” 

“Well, he’s the character that The Man will do anything to protect,” Alex explains, “there’s nothing more precious to The Man than his son. And because of that, the reader is forced to finish the book in order to see if The Son actually survives. Because if he doesn’t, there’s no meaning in any of it.” 

Ms. Hayward nods slowly. “Alright, Turner, interesting point you have. There’s one thing, however. The Man tells his son to commit suicide if he is caught by the bad people. Not to kill them, but to kill himself. He even teaches The Boy how to shoot himself. So perhaps he doesn’t want his son to survive at all cost. Or what do you think?” 

Alex falls silent for a moment. “Huh,” he says, “I forgot about that. Nevermind, then. I’m sure Williamson argues something else, anyway.”

“Actually,” Ms. Hayward smiles at him, “Williamson’s points are closer to yours than you think. Are you sure you haven’t read the article, Turner?”

“Positive,” Alex assures her with a smile.

Miles looks over at Alex, impressed with the other’s ability to analyse a novel without having read any secondary material. Taylor is looking at Alex, too. She jabs him in the ribs with her pencil and whispers to him: “Nerd.” She has a big smile on her face.

 

*

 

After their English class has finished, Alex and Miles split up again to go to different classes. Miles’s last class of the day is Biology whereas Alex’s is Music. When the bell rings and they both must rush ahead in each their own direction, Alex pauses and asks Miles if he knows where to go.

“Oh – yeah, I’ll be fine this time,” Miles laughs, “thanks, though. I’ll… hopefully see you around. Or something.”

“Of course you will,” Alex tells him with a smile, “you should come and have lunch with me and the lads tomorrow. We’ll make sure to get a big table.”

“That sounds great,” Miles grins, “I’ll definitely do that, then.”

Alex winks at him and disappears down the hallway. Miles is almost late for class because he lingers there, looking after Alex almost longingly as he departs quickly. Miles didn’t even know the guy three hours ago, but now he misses him already. He hopes that Alex meant what he said and that Miles will actually be welcome to join him and his friends tomorrow. And perhaps even the day after that. And the day after that… 

As he enters the class last minute and chooses a random seat in the middle of the classroom in order to avoid wasting the teacher’s time, Miles notices Alex’s friend, Matt, sitting in the front row. Matt doesn’t look over at Miles and he doesn’t wave for him to come over and occupy that empty seat right next to him. For a moment, Miles is completely disheartened and wonders if, perhaps, Alex is in fact the only one in his group who wishes to hang out with him. Or maybe Matt is still upset about his shirt.

 

*

 

“Hey! Miles – over here!” 

Miles is taken by surprise for the second time that day when someone calls his name after he’s stepped outside the school building at four o’clock in the afternoon. He’s on his way home, but now he can’t help but to turn around and look who’s calling him.

“Miles – right here, mate!”

This time he recognises the voices. Alex and Jamie are both stood smoking under the large trees along with some other mates that Miles won’t be introduced to for a long time to come. But he smiles at them and walks over to them immediately. 

“Alright, guys,” he says, baring his teeth, “are you both off?”

“Yeah,” Jamie says, taking a heavy drag from his cigarette, “free at last, eh?” Then he looks Miles over. “Do you smoke, Kane?”

“A bit,” Miles shrugs, “but I’m alright at the moment. I was just on my way home.”

“Whereabouts do you live?” Alex asks him. His brown eyes are even more beautiful now that they are surrounded by the great outdoors. The paleness of the skies are making them shine. 

“Oh, about a mile and a half from here,” Miles tells him, “on Park Lane, if you know it. Close to a big Sainsbury’s.”

“Shut up!” Alex exclaims and Jamie produces a booming laughter, which makes Miles fear that he’s being made fun of all of a sudden. But then he learns: “I live on Park Lane,” Alex explains to him, “fookin’ hell – are you with the family that’s just moved in number 11?” 

“Yeah,” Miles grins, “that would be my parents.”

“I live in number 13,” Alex beams, “we’re bloody neighbours! Can you believe it?” 

Miles feels his cheeks burning when each corner of his mouth widens and spreads out far enough to reach both his ears. 

“Unbelievable,” he chuckles, locking eyes with Alex once again, “I mean, that’s great.”

“Bloody hell,” Jamie murmurs, seemingly unimpressed when he blows out his smoke in their direction, “are you guys going to throw pajamas parties from now on?”

Alex ignores him and ashes his cigarette with the heel of his boot. “Come on, Miles,” he smirks, “we’ll walk home together, shall we?” 

 

*

 

“How old are you?” Miles asks Alex when it’s just the two of them, strolling down the street lazily. For some reason, he’s glad to not have the others around.

“Sixteen,” Alex replies with a small yawn and rubs at his eyes tiredly, “sorry, I haven’t been getting much sleep lately. Anyway, I’m assuming we’re the same age?”

“Yeah, I’m sixteen, too.” Miles couldn’t feel any lamer than he does right now. He has never been great at socialising with people. “Sorry, I was going to ask you something more interesting than that, but… My brain’s kinda mush right now.”

Surprised at Miles’s admission, Alex snorts and can’t keep from giggling slightly. 

“Do you always talk yourself down like that?” He asks him, amused and slightly worried at the same time. “Anyway, I think you’re just overwhelmed ‘cus you’re new. Things will get less awkward soon. I’m pretty sure.”

“So you don’t mind if I’m being a little awkward?” Miles can’t keep from laughing at himself either. “God, listen to me. I sound like a ten-year-old.”

“It’s not so bad,” Alex chuckles, “it’s only because people act so bloody tough and confident all the time. Including Matt. I’ve known Matt all me life, but you should have seen him on his first day of school. He wasn’t so confident back then.”

“Thanks. That actually helps.” Miles grins. “You seem really close, though. As a group, I mean. Have you also known Jamie and Nick your whole life?”

“Pretty much,” Alex nods, “we’re almost like brothers now. We know everything about each other. The only difference is, of course, they all have real siblings, whereas I don’t. I’m an only child, so I only have them.”

“I’m an only child, too,” Miles tells him, “I wish I had siblings, though. Or at least close friends, like you do.” 

Alex merely smiles at his remark. “Are you at least close with your parents?” He asks.

“I guess, though mainly my mum.” Miles shrugs. “She’s pretty easy to talk to at least. What about you? Are you close with your folks?”

“I am, though I hate to admit it,” Alex laughs and it’s contagious enough to reach Miles’s lips, “my parents are both teachers, actually. That’s why I’m being such a smart-arse in class. Terribly annoying I am – I know.”

“I don’t think anyone’s annoyed by that,” Miles tells him honestly, remembering how everyone greeted Alex in their own chummy ways, “besides, you’re not being a smart-arse when what you say is actually clever. There is a distinction. Are your parents proud of you, then?”

“Proud of me?” Alex stares at Miles as though he’s asked him if the moon is made of cheese. “I don’t know if they’re proud of me. They sometimes tell me that I’ve got great potential, but I don’t know if it’s the same thing. At least they don’t tend to yell at me. Maybe that means they’re satisfied with me. I don’t know.”

The two of them continue to walk side by side, slowly and carefree, as though they’ve got all the time in the world. The sun is shining dimly and for the first time in several weeks, the weather is nice and mild. Miles can’t help but to steal glances at Alex every now and again; his brown mop of hair is gilded by the sun, making it appear so soft and fluffy, Miles almost longs to touch it. Even Alex’s eyelashes are glimmering with sunlight. It makes him think that for once in his life, he’s actually met someone special. Alex could be special to him, Miles realises. 

“Here we are,” Alex says suddenly, pausing at the end of the street where the two houses – number 11 and number 13 – are lined up next to each other beautifully, “I still can’t believe we live next door to each other.”

“Maybe we can even look into each other’s bedrooms,” Miles muses before he can stop himself. 

“You better close the curtains every time you wank,” Alex laughs boyishly, “I can’t be waking up to that every morning.” 

“What do you take me for?” Miles joins in, chortling. “Maybe you should be careful not to spy on me, then.”

They both laugh for a moment, looking over at each other’s houses.

“I’d invite you in and maybe show you around,” Alex then tells him, “but I’m afraid my parents are going to be home soon. And I’ve promised them to do all my homework this time.”

“That’s alright,” Miles tells him, “maybe we can meet up tomorrow and walk to school together.”

“Yeah, that sounds great,” Alex agrees, bumping shoulders with Miles spontaneously, or perhaps it’s merely a tradition he shares with Matt and the other guys. Either or, they are both too small and skinny, the bumping of shoulders wouldn’t have impressed any spectators. “See you around, Miles.” Alex grins.

“See you tomorrow, Alex.”

Miles waves the other off before walking up to his own house. Before he leaves, he reads the small letters on the mailbox belonging to no. 13, reading ‘David, Penny and Alexander Turner.’ As Miles digs out the key from his pocket and walks up to the front door, he smiles and shakes his head with amazement: To think that, to him, Alex has now become the cute boy next door.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for the positive feedback so far! I hope you'll continue to like the next chapters ;)

SIX MONTHS LATER

 

“Miles! What the fuck is going on? What’s taking you guys so long?”

Matt has walked into the restrooms searching for him and Alex. He’s laughing loudly and raising the beer bottle in his hand, again and again, until he’s spilling his drink all over the sticky floors. Then he begins to sing loudly, too:

"I want to live like common people, I want to do whatever common people do, I want to sleep with common people, I want to sleep with common people like you."

Matt hoots and shouts, dancing around himself and bumping into a poor guy who’s trying to wash his hands by the sink. 

“Sorry, mate!” Matt hollers and spills some more beer over both their shoes. “I bump into people all the time – ask this guy, right here! Miles, my man! That’s how you and I met, innit?”

The guy eyes Matt like he’s a crazy person and leaves the room immediately, without even drying his hands.

“Hey, Matt, I appreciate the show you’ve been putting on all night,” Miles tells him with a groan from where he’s squatting down on the floor inside one of the stalls, “but could you maybe turn it down a notch? You’re being quite loud and he’s not doing so good.”

Miles is squatting down behind Alex, who’s on his knees and puking fast into the toilet. Miles has been watching him in concern for the past fifteen minutes and is now rubbing a hand in circles over Alex’s back, trying to comfort him. 

“What?” Matt finally stops dancing and sticks his head inside the stall. “Oh, bloody hell!” He shouts. “That smell of vomit is really quite powerful! Watch out, Miles, or you’ll catch it!”

“It’s not funny,” Miles sighs. Though he’s been drinking heavily like everyone else tonight, he feels far too sober to be dealing with Matt’s nonsense. “I’m thinking maybe we should take Alex home, he’s really sick.”

Miles isn’t sure why, but for some reason he always ends up becoming the party-pooper. It’s not that he’s trying to be clever or more sensible than his friends; he just can’t stand seeing Alex this way.

Alex gags and retches loudly, forcing Matt to jump back and inch further away from them. Then he stops himself and breathes in through his nose.

“I’m not that sick,” Alex groans miserably, though he barely remembers where he is, “I don’t – I don’t wanna go home yet, Miles…” 

“Are you sure?” Miles speaks to him softly and pushes Alex’s hair away from his eyes. “I could call you a taxi. I’d follow you home, of course.”

“N-no,” Alex insists, “I’ll be fine. I joost need s-some fresh air or summat.” 

“That’s my boy!” Matt howls and begins to dance all over the floor again. “I knew you wouldn’t bail on us, Al – you never do! And Miles, stop being such a mother-hen. Seriously, mate.”

 

*

 

Alex is able to walk out of the restroom ten minutes later, with his arm around Miles’s shoulder for balance, of course. Everyone hoots and celebrates when he rejoins them and is ready keep the party going. 

“Alex, you legend!” Jamie laughs and grabs a hold of Alex, lifting the smaller lad up and spinning him around dangerously. Miles tries to warn him and tells him to put him back down, but his pleas are drowning in the music.

“Here,” Nick tells Alex when he’s back on the ground, “I got you a coke, mate. I thought you could do with a refreshment. You know, to get rid of the smell of vomit in your mouth.” Alex grins drunkenly and accepts the drink. Then Nick turns around and whispers to Miles: “Don’t tell him I mixed it with rum.”

Miles frowns slightly, but decides not to say anything. He needs to stop overthinking things. He knows he’s overprotective of Alex, and though he can’t help it, he certainly doesn’t want other people to figure him out or question his intentions. 

“Alex, darling!” Taylor cries as she appears out of the crowd of people that has gathered around the bar. Ever since Miles has gotten to know her better, he’s learned that Taylor will do almost anything to attract Alex’s attention and, worse yet, attain his affections. “I heard that you were sick,” she whimpers as she joins them along with a few girl friends of hers, “are you going to be alright?”

Alex is merely grinning at her concern. “I’m fine,” he laughs, dancing around the place with Matt, “Miles is taking very good care of me,” he then rants, “he always takes good care of me.”

Miles who is standing only a few feet away pretends to not have heard their conversation, though Alex’s words have him blushing hard. 

“I would have taken good care of you, too,” Taylor goes on like a jealous woman, “if only I’d known that you weren’t feeling well.”

“Fuck off, Taylor,” Matt tells her unexpectedly and pushes her backwards by jumping in from the side and swaying fiercely to the music, “we’re trying to dance here.” 

Matt and Alex begin to laugh together hysterically as they pounce up and down, knock into people and throw their arms around each other. They begin to draw more and more people in for a big group-hug, taking up more and more space. Taylor stares at them furiously, huffing like a mad dragon who’s ready to breathe fire. When none of it gets her the attention she’s after, she turns around and storms out of the bar, taking her friends with her.

“Cookie!” Matt calls, waving Jamie over to join them. “Get your arse over here. You too, Nick!”

Even though he’s become part of their group and has been for some time now, Miles still finds himself hesitating every now and again, as though he’s waiting for a special invitation to join them whenever they do something. It’s not that he’s feeling too insecure, not anymore, he just doesn’t want to come off as self-assuming. He doesn’t want to be all intrusive and forward, like Taylor can be sometimes. But then again, most of the time he only has to wait a moment. Then someone will look up and remember to include him.

“Miles!” Alex calls and nods his head suggestively. His arms are occupied; they’re wrapped around Matt and Jamie’s shoulders. “Whatcha waiting for? Get over here.” 

Miles breaks into a smile. Alex never fails to look after him and invite him in. It’s a very reciprocated thing they’ve developed for one another. Alex never leaves Miles behind and for that reason, Miles is forever loyal to him.

 

*

 

Two hours later, Miles is stood outside smoking with the lads. Alex has started puking again and is now leaning weakly against a tree for support. He’s stepped out of the others’ way, ‘cause he knows it grosses them out. Every time he retches and it lands on the ground, Miles is aching to walk over to him and help him somehow. But unlike last time, he merely settles for staying behind with the others, pretending to be listening to Jamie’s speech about a blonde girl he’s met and now wants to fuck. Matt is laughing at it all, Nick is asking him intimate questions about her looks, and another guy named Andy Nicholson – who’s been coming and going for a while now – claims to know the girl. Miles only smiles, taking one drag from his cigarette after another. He knows he should be happy that the lads think of him as part of the group now. That they actually wish to spend time with him, even when Alex isn’t around.

But all Miles wants to do is walk over to Alex and make sure he’s okay. 

“Christ, it’s four in the morning,” Matt then sighs, looking at his phone, “how did it get so fookin’ late?”

“How the fuck did we all manage to get in with our fake ID’s?” Jamie muses further, chuckling slightly. “I’m more amazed at that.”

“Especially because very few of you look a day older than fourteen,” Nick grunts. 

“Who the fuck are you referring to?” Matt squints his eyes, playing tough again, though it’s a joke. It’s always a joke with him.

“First of all, people who are eighteen don’t have their faces covered in acne like you do,” Andy Nicholson tells him with a deadpan expression. 

“Alright, Mr Smooth-skin,” Matt huffs and throws his cigarette bud at Andy, “don’t pretend you’re above all our teenage hardships. I’ve seen you pop more zits than I can count.”

“Yeah, but you suck at maths,” Miles butts in, suddenly. He’s comfortably drunk and he’s been getting to know these lads better and better, he’s finally confident enough to take part in their banter. Matt pauses for a moment and looks over at him in offense, with his mouth hanging open. But then Jamie, Nick and Andy all burst out laughing, and Matt can’t keep a straight face any longer.

“Ouch,” Matt snorts, chuckling lightly, “low blow, Kane. Insulting my intelligence? Low blow, man.”

Miles smirks and lights another cigarette. He takes in a deep breath and revels in the sensation of no longer feeling anxious in social situations.

“Hey, Alex!” Nick shouts. “How you’re doing over there?”

Miles looks up when Alex straightens his back and walks towards them, dizzily. 

“I think I’ve puked up everything there is to puke,” Alex moans. He’s unable to walk straight, but at least he’s able to walk. “I could do with a drink, actually.”

“Too bad, they’ve stopped serving,” Jamie laughs at him.

“Really? Shit, what time is it?” Alex frowns.

“It’s four in the morning, mate.” Matt announces. “I’ll be heading home soon.”

“Oh, shit!” Alex coughs. “I promised my parents I’d be home by two. I’ve got that stupid family thing tomorrow.”

“What family thing?” Miles questions, taking in Alex’s pale skin with slight concern. 

“Oh, just – me cousin’s birthday,” Alex grumbles, “I don’t even want to think about it.”

“His cousins are awful,” Jamie remarks and looks over at Miles, “I’ve met them once. Bunch of spoiled brats, they are.” 

“It can’t be that bad,” Miles titters and smirks, “it’s just a birthday, mate.”

Alex pauses slightly when he catches Miles smiling at him. “Yeah, you’re right,” he shrugs, “anyway, I better go. I’ll be fucked in the morning.”

“I’ll go with you,” Miles replies immediately, “do you need me to call us a taxi?”

“Nah, nah, I can walk,” Alex assures him and grins, “I’m good.”

“You always say you’re good,” Nick mocks him, “and then you fall over and land on your face.”

“Not this time,” Alex shakes his head, “I’ve got Miles to look after me, don’t I?”

“Yeah, you do,” Miles grins. When he’s about to ash his cigarette, Alex merely snatches it out from in between his fingers and takes a drag. As he hands it back to Miles, Miles becomes very aware of the fact that he’s holding something in his hands that Alex has touched with his lips. He thought he was going to ash it, but now he decides to finish the living shit out of the small cigarette piece.

 

*

 

“I feel so gross,” Alex complains when it’s just the two of them, walking home side by side, “I’ve got a vile taste in me mouth and I smell like shit. I feel hideous.”

“You’re not hideous,” Miles protests subtly, “you’ve just had too much to drink.”

“No, no, I’m serious,” Alex continues, “it’s not just that. I look like hell. I really do. My eyes are all red…”

“So are mine,” Miles intervenes, “it’s probably from all the cigarette smoke, don’t you think? No biggie.”

“But it’s my hair, too,” Alex insists, “it’s sticky. And – all flat.”

“Matt spilled beer over our heads,” Miles reminds him, “some of it landed in your hair. I saw it with my own eyes. Don’t you remember that happening?”

“Nah. All I know is that I’m sweating like a pig. Really, Miles, I am disgusting.”

“You don’t even look sweaty,” Miles sniggers at him, “I think your mind is playing tricks on you or something.”

“You are never going to admit that I’m gross, are you?” Alex bursts out laughing. “You don’t have to be so nice, Miles, you can tell me the truth. I’ve been barfing for the past three hours, it’s no surprise that I look like shit.”

“But you don’t.” Miles shakes his head. “I’m not just bein’ nice – it’s the truth.”

“Look at me,” Alex challenges him, “I’ve got dark rings around my eyes.”

“You are just tired,” Miles mutters.

“My clothes are all dirty from hugging a bloody tree,” Alex goes on. At this, Miles merely laughs. “I’m all cross-eyed, too. And I’m certain that my pupils are wide like saucers. I must look like a lunatic.”

“You don’t look like a lunatic,” Miles snorts, “and believe me, I’ve seen a few.”

“If I’m not a lunatic, then I’m just downright filthy,” Alex mutters, “I look absolutely nasty. My Mum would force me to shower before I enter the house if she could see me now.”

“Don’t say that,” Miles tells him, even if Alex is only joking, “that’s not true. I think you look… nice.”

“Nice?”

“Yeah. I mean… as in, not nasty.” 

Miles wants to say beautiful, but he’s aware that that would be too candid. Miles bites his lip, nervously. Alex doesn’t fail to notice it.

“Cheers,” Alex giggles, somewhat awkwardly. “Even if you are just trying to make me feel better… That’s nice of you to say.”

Miles falls silent for a moment. When he looks over at the other, he thinks he can almost see a blushing of cheeks. Something which is not like Alex at all.

“Come on, Al,” Miles clears his throat and attempts to sound slightly more nonchalant, “you don’t need me to make you feel better. People compliment you all the time, don’t they? Not a single person has ever told you that you look like shit. Even tonight, you received quite some positive attention.”

Miles pats Alex’s shoulder, like a proper blokey bloke. A man-to-man talk. He’s seen the other guys doing it to each other and so, Miles assumes it’s the right thing to do. He wouldn’t want Alex to think that he isn’t… cool. 

Alex grins at Miles’s gesture. “What do you mean?” He asks, pretending not to know. But Miles is certain that he knows.

“Oh, you know – Taylor, for one. She was all over you, like she always is. I think she was hoping that you would be all over her, too.”

Alex’s smile falters slightly. “I assumed she was joking,” he says, “or that she was showing off to her friends or summat. I didn’t think – I don’t think she likes me that way.”

“Oh please, Alex, it’s so obvious,” Miles tells him. “She’ll do anything to please you. She’s always… there for you. You know.”

“Yeah, but… So are you,” Alex says innocently. “I dunno, it’s just… Perhaps I’m not that into her, you know? I don’t think we have much in common.”

“Are you serious?” Miles furrows his brow. “Taylor’s gorgeous. Are you saying you’re not attracted to her? At all?”

Alex shrugs, almost solemnly. “I don’t know,” he drawls, “do I have to be?”

“No, I – I guess not.” Miles smiles without knowing why, or how to stop it. “I just thought most boys would be. Attracted to her, I mean.”

“Yeah. Most boys probably are.” At this, Alex pokes Miles teasingly. “Maybe you’re really into her, eh?” He winks at the other, though he doesn’t seem overly cheerful about it. “Maybe that’s why you’ve brought it up?” 

“What?” Miles laughs. “N-no. Not at all. Besides, Taylor barely ever speaks to me.”

“Doesn’t mean you can’t like her,” Alex smiles. 

“I know. But I don’t.” Miles shakes his head, feeling slightly guilty. Poor Taylor. She’s been rejected a lot tonight. “She’s not my… type. I think.”

“What’s your type then?” Alex asks with genuine interest. “Not tall and blonde, I gather?”

“It’s not so much that,” Miles chuckles, unable to explain, “It’s not her hair colour, or her height. It’s just… her. She’s just… wrong for me. Simple as that.”

 

*

 

As they reach Park Lane, a quiet street that is bathed in the pale moonlight, in those early hours, right before the sun rises and changes the colours of the skies, Miles look over at Alex, right before they’re meant to go separate ways. 

“Do you think your parents will find out that you’re home late?” Miles isn’t willing to say goodnight. Not just yet. He’ll start a conversation, and he’ll ask anything – anything to make Alex stick around a little longer. 

Alex smirks at that, pulling a face. “Oh yeah,” he breathes, “they’ll know alright. They are both light sleepers. They’ll probably hear me as soon as I let meself in.”

“Do you think they’ll get mad at you?” Miles questions and ponders for a moment. He feels fairly certain that he can sneak in without waking up his own folks, but he does have a feeling that his Mum would throw a tantrum if she knew how late they’ve been out for – and how heavily they’ve all been drinking.

“Me Dad will pretend to be hard on me in front of me Mum,” Alex giggles, “but when she leaves the room, he’ll just find it funny. He’s a lot softer than he’ll ever admit.”

Miles smiles at the thought. Yeah, he likes Alex’s Dad. Both his parents actually. They both smile and wave so kindly every time Miles runs into them outside the house. David Turner is the kind of parent who will chat to his son’s friends about football when they’re visiting, while Penny is the kind of mother who feeds everyone cookies and home-made scones, to the point when it’s almost too much. Alex acts like he finds it embarrassing, but Miles knows that there’s never been any fighting between Alex and his parents. Not that he’s ever seen, anyway. And at least they don’t yell at him in front of his friends, like Jamie’s Dad will do every and now and again. 

“I wish my parents were as easy as that,” Miles sighs, “bloody hell, I’m going to be so hungover in the morning. I don’t even want to think about it.”

“Fuck,” Alex huffs, “I almost want to puke again, just ‘cause you brought it up.”

“Sorry.” Miles grins. “And I’m sorry you’ve got that family thing in the morning. Your cousin’s birthday, right?”

“Yeah…” Alex pauses for a moment and appears to be staring into empty air. “I hate my cousins. They make me happy I’m an only child.”

“Is that so?” Miles laughs and pushes against Alex’s shoulder teasingly. Only to realise that the other isn’t kidding. “Huh. Are they really that bad?”

“Oh, they are worse than bad,” Alex chuckles darkly, “they are all bigger than me, so they like to push me around if they can. Or at least when we were younger, they used to do that. Three against one. Used to bully me a lot. What’s even worse, though, is their Mum. Auntie Ruth – she was married to my uncle, my Mum’s brother, but he died a few years ago. She’s a horrible woman who allows her horrible sons to do whatever the fuck they want, even if it means terrorizing other people.” Alex frowns, then stops himself. “Sorry, I don’t mean to go on about ‘em.”

“No, that’s alright,” Miles tells him, “they do sound like an awful bunch. Are you sure you can’t sit this one out?”

“Nah, I promised my Mum I’d go,” Alex shrugs, “she doesn’t have a lot of family left, so she likes to make a big deal out of birthdays and such.”

“That doesn’t mean everyone deserves a birthday party,” Miles remarks. 

“No,” Alex laughs, “it doesn’t.”

They both fall silent for a moment or two. There’s something in the night, in the moonlight and in the fresh morning air, which makes them both want to stay right where they are, lingering in that magical threshold between night and day, darkness and morning light. The skies are slowly turning light blue, soon pink and then orange. Alex looks so beautiful right there, in front of Miles. His dark eyes complement the mystery of the silence and peacefulness of these early hours, when everyone else is asleep. There’s a small smile on Alex’s lips and Miles thinks that he’s never seen anyone looking more angelical than he does right now, underneath the heavenly morning sky. 

“I should probably go inside,” Alex says slowly, feeling Miles watching him, “it’s already getting far too late.”

“I know,” Miles nods, “me too.”

And yet, they both linger once more.

“Before I go, though,” Alex adds, “I should probably thank you, Miles.”

Miles raises his brows in surprise. “Thank me? What for?” 

“You know,” Alex smirks, “for looking after me all night. Even when I was bein’ really gross.”

Miles snorts in amusement. “It wasn’t all that bad,” he jokes, “but hey, that’s what mates are for, right?”

“Yeah,” Alex smiles, “best mates.”

 

*

 

Miles enters his bedroom as quietly as he possibly can, hoping to God that he hasn’t woken up his old man. When he’s inside and has closed the door behind him, he pauses and sees that someone has left his window wide open. Shit. It must be his mum – she must be on to him after all the cigarettes he’s started smoking in here, even when he thinks he’s being very careful and has decided to only smoke by the windowsill. Mothers are like bloodhounds, though – they can smoke anything. Anything suspicious, at least. 

Miles moves over and pushes the curtains aside in order to close his window. Then he freezes, standing completely still. Whether it’s from recent habit or from the temptation, which evidently lies in Miles’s telling himself to be careful, to not be so obvious, he can’t keep from sneaking a peek towards the Turners’ house, towards the upstairs windows. He’s too drunk and too giddy to stop himself, even when he knows it’s wrong.

He’s become a bloody spy recently and he knows it. Even Alex knows it.

And he spots everything that he’s been hoping to find. Alex’s curtains are drawn to the side, offering Miles a free glance into his best friend’s room where the lights have been turned on. Alex is walking across the floor, covering the distance between his bed and his ensuite bathroom. He’s brushing his teeth without looking up, without spotting Miles watching him from a distance. He’s only wearing boxer shorts. Miles holds his breath and pretends that he doesn’t see Alex’s naked upper-body, Alex’s skinny, svelte frame, pretends that he doesn’t see Alex’s smooth, soft skin, the protruding ribs, the small, pink nipples and the long, thin, sort of elegant legs… Miles has never seen anything so delicate, so alluring, in his life. It’s evoking emotions in him that he doesn’t quite understand or recognise. 

Quickly, before Alex looks up and sees him, Miles closes his window and draws the curtains. When he’s in bed and under the covers ten minutes later, Miles replays the images of Alex walking across his room, half-naked and completely unaware, in his mind over and over again. When he begins to recall the shape of Alex’s hipbones and the small, very subtle trail of hair underneath his navel, Miles closes his eyes, leans his head back and begins to touch himself, ever so softly.

And it’s heaven. Alex is his Heaven.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Slightly longer chapter this time. Miles and Alex finally agree to meet up and talk about - ahem, things. However, Miles is soon left to wonder why Alex doesn't show up.

FOUR WEEKS LATER

 

Taylor has noticed Miles watching Alex during class and she’s not happy. At first, she assumed it was due to some sort of dependency or gratitude, which sprung from Alex taking Miles under his wing and introducing him to his circle of friends. But now, as time has gone by and Miles no longer needs to rely on Alex for support, Taylor is beginning to interpret the look in Miles’s eyes when he’s looking at Alex as being something other than that. It’s a look of something deeper and more dangerous than she’s been aware of before – it’s a look of admiration and perhaps even devotion.

But why? Why has Miles Kane entered Alex’s life and therefore Taylor’s too, when they were doing so well, so great without his meddling? And more importantly, and this is something which is driving Taylor to great despair, why the fuck is Alex smiling back at him instead of telling him to stop being such a nonce and fuck off? Ever since Miles has been introduced to the group, Alex has had less and less time for her and Taylor won’t stand for it much longer. It’s time to do something about it. It’s time to challenge Miles’s motives.

It begins with getting her girl friends in on the whole thing. It begins with accidental shoves and pushes, then mean laughter behind Miles’s back that are intended for him to hear. It’s all to crush his confidence of course, something which proves to be easily done. Soon, Miles looks over at her nervously every time she appears, and when he’s stood there, alone together with Alex in the hallway, talking about God knows what, she’s soon learned how to bully him into leaving them alone, making it possible for her to get Alex to herself. 

Taylor thinks she’s got it made, when – one day – Alex betrays her by asking Miles to stay. She’s just appeared around the corner of the hallway, knowing exactly where to catch the two of them on their own. Miles sees her and readies himself to flee – and Taylor is already smirking and waving him goodbye – when Alex speaks the words:

“Miles, wait – why don’t you stay for a moment?”

Her smile turns into a frown and she decides: Fine – let them both have it, then. She makes sure that Miles is watching as she moves suddenly and pushes Alex against the wall, none too gently. Without further hesitation, she grasps at his hair and kisses him in an obscene manner; her open mouth is moving over his tightly shut lips. Alex’s eyes widen with panic. Next to him, Miles has gone completely limp and appears to be too shocked to look the other way, much to Taylor’s satisfaction. However, Alex quickly tries to dodge and to push against her, without daring to be rough. Taylor groans, unwilling to break the kiss and so, she lets him struggle for another moment before she breaks apart from him with a great huff and an angry shout:

“What the hell is the matter with you?” Her eyes are hard and thundering, looking as though they might combust at any moment. Alex pulls away from her with fear. “Are you really choosing him over me?” She adds sharply: “Is he really worth it?”

Alex and Miles are both blushing and pretending not to know what she’s talking about. 

“What do you mean?” Alex stammers innocently, though he’s avoiding her eyes now. He’s looking away because he knows he’s hurt her feelings. He knows why, too. “Why do I have to choose between you all of a sudden?”

“You know why,” Taylor grunts, staring right into his eyes persistently. 

“No, I don’t.” Alex’s eyes are so pure and youthful, Miles almost believes him. “Taylor, I’m sorry – I thought we were friends…”

“So did I, Alex,” she turns away from him, harshly, as though she can’t stand the look of him. “But it turns out you’re both morons,” she adds and walks away.

 

*

 

For a long time to come, Alex and Miles don’t talk about what’s just happened. Alex asks him if he’s okay and Miles replies:

“Aren’t I the one who should be asking you that?” 

Alex chuckles, though his eyes are all dim. He wipes at his mouth discretely as he shrugs.

“I didn’t realise she’d be so pissed off with me,” he remarks sadly.

“I’m sorry,” Miles says.

“Why?” Alex offers him a small smile. “It’s not your fault.”

But Miles thinks it might be.

 

*

 

“What the fuck is Taylor’s problem?” Nick snorts a few days later, during lunch, when she’s ignored his gesture to come join them at the table. “What’s with the stick up her arse all of a sudden?”

“Yeah, man, she looks as though she wants to kill you,” Matt joins in, though he merely laughs at the moody expression on the girl’s face. 

“Women,” Jamie grunts and shakes his head slightly, “I’ll never understand them.”

“Maybe you should go talk to her, Al,” Matt suggests as he digs into his chips and covers them in mayonnaise, “after all, you’re the only one of us she actually likes.”

Alex and Miles both exchange a look of concern and fall completely silent.

“I – I can’t,” Alex drawls, “I mean, I think I should just leave her alone for now.”

“Why?” Nick frowns. “She’s obviously trying to tell us something – like how pissed off she is about God knows what.” 

“I know, but,” Alex clears his throat uncomfortably, “I’m the one she’s mad at.”

They all look up from their food, except Miles who’s known this to be true for a few days now.

“What do you mean she’s mad at you?” Jamie mocks him. “She adores you. Everyone knows that.”

“She’s always like: ‘Alex, darling, over here, darling,’” Matt impersonates her voice whilst chewing his food loudly, “’I saved you a seat, darling. Can I please touch your hair, Alex, my little fluff-angel?’”

“She doesn’t call me her fluff-angel,” Alex objects with a grimace.

“Oh, she does!” Nick insists as he backs Matt up. “On numerous occasions, mate. When she was very drunk at her own birthday party and then again when we had that lame school dance thing…”

“She was like,” Matt butts in with his little parody again, “’Alex, you’ve got lovely soft hair, darling. You’re the cutest little fluff-muffin there is!’” 

“She absolutely does not call me a fluff-muffin!” Alex protests with horror.

“Alright, alright, whatever,” Matt shrugs, “she’s got plenty of names for you. The point is, she’s probably not that mad at you. I mean, what could you possibly do to make her stop adoring you so evidently?” 

“Yeah man,” Jamie folds his hands behind his neck and leans back in his chair, “she loves you too much to be mad at you.”

“She doesn’t love me,” Alex tries, then surrenders with a sigh, “the thing is… She’s upset because I don’t… feel the same way about her. She’s been refusing to talk to me for a few days now.”

“Seriously? That’s so childish of her,” Nick says with a roll of his eyes. “She’s only trying to get your attention, man.”

“No, I mean it,” Alex tells them, “I think I’ve really hurt her feelings. And I don’t know how to make it up to her.”

“So why is it you don’t like her back?” Jamie interrogates with a sudden interest. “I mean, I’m just saying… She’s not exactly ugly, is she?”

“Of course she’s not ugly,” Alex tells him, “that’s not what this is about.”

“Does that mean she’s available?” Matt skips to a new conclusion. “I mean, would you mind if I – if we – tried it on? Not now, of course, but eventually. When she’s ready and over you and stuff.”

“Fuck off, Helders, you’ve never even liked her until now!” Jamie curses. “In fact, you always complain about her annoying you.”

“I do not!” Matt objects.

“First of all, you do,” Alex tells him, “second of all, Taylor’s not mine to give away. She never was.” 

“Oh right, so you wouldn’t mind if I joined the race, then,” Nick laughs, “I mean, I wouldn’t want to get serious with her. She’s way too demanding for my taste. But see, a fling of some sort, I wouldn’t say no to.”

“What makes you think she’d choose you over any of us?” Jamie elbows Nick. The challenge is on.

“It’s pretty simple,” Nick smirks, “all I have to do is send her a dick-pic. That would give her a pretty huge reason to go for me over you losers.”

“Nick – bloody hell!” Miles is close to choking on his milk and he looks over at the other in outrage. 

“Don’t worry,” Alex tells him, “he talks a pretty big game, but he’s just boasting. I know him.” 

“Aw, look at that,” Matt cocks an eyebrow as he looks over at the others, “Al is trying to appease his little boyfriend over here. Alex, you really are Kane’s little voice of reason, do you know that?” 

“Fuck off…” Miles mutters under his breath.

“Matt is right, though,” Nick continues, “you two are being such a married couple. You’re more married than my folks at home.”

“Now that I think about it,” Jamie interrupts with a laugh, “I wouldn’t be surprised if Alex actually turned down Taylor for Kane.”

 

*

 

It takes Alex and Miles another couple of days before they are able to talk about it. And even then, when they finally attempt to, there’s still something holding them back and making them extra precautious about the whole thing. It feels like their friends have been trying to tell them something. There’s a shyness between them and it’s been building up ever since Taylor kissed Alex is front of Miles. They both know – or at least seem to know – what’s been happening and developing in silence between them and yet, it seems almost dangerous to say it out loud. 

But who provides the danger? And what can make it go away? Miles has been wondering if, in reality, Alex is aware that he’s been watching him from the window, sometimes in the middle of the night when Alex is asleep in his bed, with the duvet only covering up his middle-section, or sometimes in the morning when, conveniently, Alex is getting dressed slowly and methodologically, almost as though he’s putting on a show. If Alex knows that Miles is there, watching him, is he trying to tell him something? Is he daring him to admit his curiosity? Miles isn’t sure.

They both remain silent and avoid the inevitable until, one day, Miles snaps and takes a first step.

“You know, I was wondering,” Miles begins self-consciously one day when once again, they are walking home from school together, “perhaps you would like to come over at some point? At my place, I mean.”

“Yeah sure,” Alex speaks without thinking, “Jamie’s supposed to come over at mine tonight, but I can just bring him.”

“Oh.” Miles hesitates for a moment, wondering if he’s got the courage to object. “It’s just that… I was hoping that we could do something, just you and me. I dunno, I thought that maybe… we ought to talk about something.” Miles looks away and clears his throat. “Just you and me, I mean.”

Alex pauses with realisation. “Oh.” For a moment, Miles has no clue how he’s going to respond. Then Alex says: “Actually, I think you’re right. I mean… I’ve also been meaning to… talk. Just us two, you know?”

“Yeah,” Miles nods, “I know.”

Then Alex smiles at him, timidly. “I could maybe come over tomorrow night? I’d be on my own then. Would that be okay?”

Miles grins slightly, though he can’t help but to blush as he looks into Alex’s eyes. “Yeah, that would be brilliant. I mean – it’ll be brilliant to finally – talk – about things.”

“I agree.” Alex averts his eyes adorably and it’s making Miles long for him even more. “I promised me parents I’d go with them to the garden centre, though. I would have to do that first. Me mum wants these new trees planted in the garden and I promised I’d help them carry stuff.” Alex grins. “But I’ll come over as soon as we’re done with that. I can probably be there around seven o’clock?”

“Seven o’clock is perfect,” Miles smiles. 

 

*

 

That night, Miles is barely able to sleep. The thought of him and Alex is keeping him awake and he’s going through the words in his head, the little speech that he’s prepared for him, the confession of love and devotion, and it’s all been prepared by Miles for Alex and Alex alone. Dearest, sweetest Alex who’s been so good to him since day one. Miles feels certain now that Alex feels the same way about him; he could tell from the smile on the other’s lips, and from the warmth in those dark, beautiful eyes, finding their way into Miles’s very soul every time. There is no way that Alex is going to push him away. All he’s ever done since their first meeting is pulling Miles closer than anyone before.

When Miles finally falls asleep, it’s only to dream of the other. He dreams of touching Alex’s soft hair and kissing his small, pink lips. He feels certain that Alex must be a good kisser, or at least he can’t wait to find out. He dreams of skinny limbs and the sharp angles of Alex’s body. In his mind, Miles has Alex pressed up against the wall instead of Taylor. He’s lifting up his shirt and Alex isn’t protesting this time. Alex’s skin is soft and smooth and perfect underneath Miles’s trembling hand. They are both so warm, their skin feels burning hot against each other’s. Miles is panting against Alex’s parted lips. When he fears that he’s going to scare Alex off, the other merely wraps his arms around Miles’s neck and makes certain that he stays.

So that’s exactly what Miles does; for as long as his dream lasts.

Little does he know that, in less than twenty-four hours, everything is going to have changed forever. But not in the way that Miles would hope or expect.

 

*

 

Miles has his tea early the following night, making sure to be back in his room by half six, in case Alex should be early. Miles’s Mum has given him a weird look at the table, as though she suspects what’s going on behind her son’s dreamy expression, but she doesn’t ask any questions. She allows Miles to leave the table as soon as he’s finished eating, only telling him to go comb his hair and make his bed since he’s going to have ‘people’ over.

Miles caught Alex and his parents outside the house, at five o’clock, when the family was leaving to drive to the garden centre together. The Turners all waved at him immediately, huge smiles on everyone’s faces. Penny went over to give Miles a hug, telling him it’s ‘lovely to see him’, then apologising for having to leave so abruptly. David laughs at his wife and tells Miles to come over for tea some day. ‘We’ll watch the match or something,’ he suggests, to which Miles is more than happy to take him up on his offer. Alex shakes his head with a grin, pretending to once again be embarrassed by them both.

“Sorry about that, Miles,” he says as he climbs into the backseat of the car, leaving his parents to be seated in the front, “I’ll see you at seven!”

“See you then!” Miles shouts after the car as the engine starts and David drives off and down the street, slowly.

Miles soon wishes that he’d stayed behind to wave the family goodbye a little while longer than he did.

 

*

 

When Alex hasn’t shown up or even texted him by eight o’clock that night, Miles begins to fear that his friend is having cold feet. Alex wouldn’t be so thoughtless to actually bail on him, would he? It’s hard for Miles to imagine what on earth his excuse might be, but stubborn as ever, he chooses to believe that Alex hasn’t let him down. Alex has never before done or said anything to hurt or offend anyone, especially Miles. For that reason, Miles waits around anxiously for another hour. But as he approaches nine o’clock in the evening, he knows very well that the garden centre will have closed a long time ago and that Alex must be avoiding him.

What on earth has gone wrong since yesterday? Alex seemed so certain, so keen… Miles had actually believed that he wanted this as much as he does. 

“Where are you?” Miles whispers under his breath as he picks up his phone for the hundredth time to check for messages. “Come on, Alex, don’t do this to me… I’m not like Taylor.”

Or at least, Miles had always told himself that he wasn’t. That he was better than her, that he didn’t push or pressure Alex into spending time with him. But now he’s beginning to feel just as intrusive as her.

‘Everything OK?’

Miles sends the text message, reluctantly. He’s scared that Alex is going to get sick of him if he acts all worried and clingy, so he forces himself to keep it brief, to only send that one message even though his heart is crying for him to send thousands. Alex can’t possibly be angry with him, can he? He looked so happy earlier, in the car with his parents. He smiled at Miles so genuinely, he could not have been faking something so sweet as that. But then, on the other hand, Alex’s silence suggests otherwise. Perhaps Miles has been naïve. Perhaps he’s been an absolute moron for assuming the world about him and Alex. Just like Taylor did. Perhaps he’s finally beginning to understand Taylor’s wrath and her feelings of betrayal. 

Alex never gets back to him.

At ten o’clock, Miles’s Mum knocks on the door, delicately.

“Miles, darling?” She opens the door carefully, popping her head in. “I thought Alex was coming over.”

“So did I,” is all Miles manages to tell her. He’s sitting by his desk with his back turned against her. He’s too proud to let his Mum see the disappointment and hurt in his eyes.

“I’m sorry, love.” His Mum pauses and lingers in the doorway. “Are things not alright between the two of you? Did something happen?” 

“I don’t even know,” Miles admits, though it would have been easier to lie, “he won’t respond to my messages.”

“I knew it,” she curses unexpectedly, “forget about him, love. You deserve better than that. You know that, right?”

Miles shrugs, feeling defeated. “I guess.”

“Miles, listen to me – I thought he was different, too, but he’s no better than the rest of them. Or so it seems. You better do yourself a favour and make new… acquaintances instead.”

“Mum,” Miles sighs and turns around to face her, “he’s not like that. I know he wouldn’t treat me like… others have in the past. We probably just misunderstood each other when we made it seven o’clock. His phone has probably died or something. He’s probably had to make a change of plans without being able to tell me.”

“Miles, honey, listen to yourself…” His Mum steps into the room, approaching him slowly. 

“I’m fine,” Miles snaps at her with annoyance when she touches his shoulder, and he flinches, “it’s all fine. We’ll sort things out in the morning, okay? He’ll show up eventually, he always does.”

“Huh,” she breathes suddenly as she has started looking at something, her eyes fixed on the window, “that’s strange.”

“What?” 

“His parents aren’t home either. Their car isn’t there,” she notes. 

“See, I told you,” Miles says, wriggling out of her touch, “there’s a reason he couldn’t make it. His parents have probably taken him to dinner or something. I’m fine with that – just wish his phone hadn’t died so he could have let me know…”

Pauline looks down at her son hesitantly before she nods and pretends to go along with Miles’s rational explanations. 

“Alright, if you say so, love.” She bows down and kisses his head. “Do ask for an explanation when you see him tomorrow, though. You don’t want to sit around waiting for anyone. You’re too good for that, Miles.”

“I know,” Miles sighs, wishing she’d just go away, “it’s fine, Mum. I’m fine.”

 

*

 

What Miles doesn’t expect is the ringing of the doorbell at eleven o’clock. 

Immediately, Miles’s Mum appears out from her bedroom, only wearing a robe and her slippers. 

“Bloody hell,” she exclaims as Miles exits his room, too, “if that’s your friend Alex coming to apologise, tell him it’s too late for visitors!” 

“He’s four hours late,” Miles simply mutters, feeling utterly puzzled by the entire situation, “how can he be four hours late?”

“I don’t know, but you can tell him to get lost!” Pauline points towards the downstairs door as though she’s ordering her son to go down there immediately. “Should he not be in bed by now anyway?”

“Relax Mum, not every sixteen-year-old has a bedtime,” Miles retorts miserably. Even if Alex has changed his mind and come to see him, it feels like everything is ruined. Miles is distraught after having had to wait around for him all night without even a single message, and now his Mum is pissed off, too, believing that Alex is a poor excuse for a friend. Things couldn’t possibly be much worse than this. In fact, Miles isn’t even sure he wants to speak to Alex right now. He’s afraid he won’t be able to contain his emotions and his anger. “Can we at least get some privacy?” He shouts standing in front of the door, waiting to see his Mum disappear back into her bedroom.

“Make it brief!” She bellows with a great huff as she slams the bedroom door.

Miles takes a deep breath in order to calm his nerves. Then the doorbell is being pressed once again and Miles jumps, knowing how pissed off his old man must be to be woken up a second time.

“Stop ringing the doorbell, my Dad is trying to sleep!” He finds himself hissing as he tears the front door open. Then he stops and falls silent. 

It’s not Alex. It’s Jamie.

“Jamie!” He says with surprise, feeling like the entire evening has been one big joke. “What are you doing here?”

Jamie’s never been to see Miles on his own before. Especially not unannounced. In fact, none of them have. Neither Jamie or Matt, or Nick, would ever appear on Miles’s doorstep on their own. Only Alex has ever done that. Miles is now looking the blond lad in the eyes and there is a certain uneasiness in Jamie’s expression which is making Miles’s heart jump to his throat. Oh God – something’s wrong. Something’s very, very wrong… Jamie wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t. 

“I need to talk to you,” Jamie begins, though Miles suddenly wishes he wouldn’t talk, “Matt just rang me, like twenty minutes ago…”

Oh God. Don’t say it. Please, don’t say it…

“Alex…” Miles whispers against his will, because he suddenly understands who this is concerning. “Alex! Is he okay? Did something happen to him?”

Jamie holds up a hand, telling Miles to shut up and let him finish.

“Matt just rang me,” he repeats in a sombre tone and Jamie’s never sounded like this before, “he says we must all come to the hospital. He told me to go get both you and Nick. He says we have to come quick. There’s been a car accident…”

 

*

 

Miles’s Mum is no longer moody or shouting when she’s driving her son and his friends to the hospital at a quarter to midnight. She’s painfully silent, like the rest of them. Miles is sitting in the backseat, in between Jamie and Nick. They are all looking down at their own hands, not knowing what to say. Nothing can be said right now that doesn’t sound foolish or inappropriate. 

“Thanks again for driving us, Mrs. Kane,” Nick utters awkwardly, and Miles gets the feeling that he’s only saying this in order to break the heavy silence. 

“Don’t mention it, love,” his Mum replies emotionally whilst keeping her eyes on the road, “if there’s anything you boys need, anything at all, you let me know. This is more important than anything else. Don’t even think about school tomorrow – hell, don’t even think about school for the rest of the week,” she blathers, and it becomes necessary for Miles to stop her.

“Matt told Jamie he’d meet us by the south wing of the hospital,” Miles says in order to derail her attention and stop her from driving all of them insane, “apparently that’s entrance C. Where ever that is.”

“Don’t worry, honey, we’ll find it,” Pauline promises her son, “even if we have to drive all night, we’ll find it. You’d think there’d be some bloody staff out here to help people with directions… So how come Matt knows? I mean, how did he hear about it so quick?”

“His parents are good friends with the Turners,” Jamie explains uncomfortably. “Apparently, Matt’s Mum is one of their emergency contacts.” 

“Oh, I see. Aw, bless them,” Miles’s mum replies. Then she runs out of things to ask.

 

*

 

It takes them forever to finally arrive, so when they do, Miles is so desperate and anxious that he’s sitting on the very edge of his seat, ready to jump past Jamie and out of the car as soon as they make a stop. However, his patience is tested greatly when his Mum spends forever buying a parking ticket, even driving Jamie and Nick to insanity, too.

“Mum, no one’s going to check for parking tickets at this time!” Miles tells her sharply. “It’s past midnight!”

“You don’t know how long we’re going to be here for!” Pauline argues as she searches her purse for coins. “Your father would bite my head off if I got another ticket… Sorry, I realise that more important things are going on right now,” she offers Jamie and Nick an apologetic smile, “I just think it’s better to be safe than sorry.”

Nick rolls his eyes slightly when she turns her back on them and Jamie is forced to bite his lip in frustration. Even though Miles doesn’t like the idea of his friends disrespecting his Mum right in front of him, he ignores it and says:

“Come on, we have to go,” he nods and gestures towards the hospital entrance, “Mum, we’ll catch up with you inside!” 

The lads begin to run before Pauline can object.

 

*

 

“Matt!” Jamie shouts as they are running down the hallway and past the waiting room. They spot Matt at the very end of the hallway, seated in a chair, hand on forehead and a troubled expression on his face. “Matt!” Jamie calls again, until he finally looks up.

“What the hell is going on?” Nick asks him as they get up close to him, all trying to catch their breaths desperately. 

“Where is Alex?” Miles bursts out against his will. “Is he okay?!” 

Matt springs up from his chair and guides them towards the nearest lift. 

“It’s bad, you guys,” he pants, his face having gone completely pale, “it’s really, really bad. Everything’s gone batshit crazy…”

“Just tell us what’s happened,” Nick pleads, but Matt is busier pressing the button in the lift, then checking his phone in order to remember the room number they are going to.

“We have to go right now,” Matt drawls as everyone holds their breaths in anticipation, “we were allowed in his room half an hour ago. My parents are still with him, they didn’t want him to be alone…”

“Fuck sake, Helders, just tell us what’s happened!” Miles cries. “Is Alex going to be okay? Is he hurt?”

“We’re in the bloody hospital,” Matt spits, looking up from his phone with hard, miserably eyes, “what the fuck do you think, Kane? He was in a car crash, yeah?” Matt draws a breath and tenses his shoulders. Then he says: “Look – I don’t know a lot by this point. But I think Alex is going to be fine. He’s a little banged up and he’s got a broken arm, but nothing life-threatening, alright? But it’s bad, you guys… He’s completely out of it. I had to leave him alone after just five minutes, he refuses to talk to anyone…” 

“Is it…” Jamie pauses, unwilling to speak what’s on his mind. But Matt seems to understand, anyway.

“Yeah,” Matt sighs heavily, “his parents… They aren’t doing so good.”

Before he is able to elaborate, the lift stops and the doors open. Matt drags them out of there and takes them with him, running down a new hallway.

 

*

 

Matt’s parents have both stepped out of Alex’s room when they get there. They are both deadly silent, looking over at each other with dread and pain in their eyes. 

“What are you doing?” Matt yells at them both by the time they’ve caught up with them. “You said you’d stay behind to look after him!”

“Matthew, lower your voice…” His Mum tells him, reminding him that there are other patients down the hallway.

“He’s not supposed to be alone,” Matt continues, angrily, and his calm, collected façade is finally cracking for his friends to see, “you said so yourselves – someone needs to stay with him!”

“Matthew, wait-“ Mr Helders makes a small effort to stop his son, but essentially, he allows Matt to go back inside the room. Matt closes the door behind him with a loud bang, forcing the others to wonder what the hell is going on in there.

Miles is standing speechless in front of Matt’s parents, torn between wanting to follow after Matt in his own desperation to see Alex, and between wanting to hear someone finally explaining to them what’s going on. 

“We didn’t want to leave his room,” Mrs Helders suddenly says in her own defense when Miles, Jamie and Nick are all staring at them for answers, “the nurses told us that he needed a sedative. They told us we shouldn’t stay around for that.”

Mr Helders clears his throat and takes over from where his wife has left off. “He was so upset, he was going to injure himself if they didn’t find a way to calm him down,” he explains uncomfortably, looking both Nick and Jamie in the eyes, but struggling slightly with Miles, perhaps because he hasn’t yet learned the name of the New Kid, “the thing is, lads, Alex is going to be fine. But we’ve been told that David has died from a heart attack after the crash.”

“And I’m afraid Penny’s chances are very slim,” Mrs Helders adds as she wipes away a tear quietly, “she’s in a coma now, but they don’t expect her to wake up from it again. She suffered a lot of trauma to her head – it was so bad, the doctors suspected they would have to announce her braindead.”

Miles feels as though his entire world has been turned upside-down. His stomach is heavy as though he’s swallowed a bowling ball. He feels dizzy, like he should be sitting down. But all he wants to do is see Alex.

“We need to see him,” he hears himself saying in a raspy voice, “Matt is right – he shouldn’t be alone.”

“I’m sorry, darling,” Mrs Helders tells him kindly, even though she probably can’t remember Miles’s name either, “he’s finally sleeping. We’ve been asked to give him some time. I don’t think they would allow any visitors until he wakes up.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm afraid this chapter is going to be a slightly heavy one. Miles and the gang are all trying to make sure that Alex is going to be okay, but in the meantime, Alex has to deal with a funeral.
> 
> Hang in there xx

Despite being told that they’ll be able to see him the following morning, another two days go by before Miles, Jamie and Nick are actually allowed in Alex’s room. They take turns going to and from the hospital, sometimes spending full afternoons and evenings in the waiting room without result, missing out on several days of school as well. Miles begins to wonder if, in reality, Alex is the one who’s been refusing visitors rather than the nurses believing that he isn’t ready to see people.

But every time Jamie or Nick, or even Miles himself, feel like giving up, they remind each other that Alex has just lost his father and, most likely, his mother, too. If they don’t go to check up on him, if they don’t make sure that he is okay, no matter how long they’ll have to wait to see him, no one else will. Alex has never had much family, all of his grandparents have died years ago, except from one – his paternal grandmother who doesn’t even live in the city and who’s unable to travel anywhere due to her severe dementia. The doctors probably won’t even be able to explain to her what’s happened.

Alex has suddenly become utterly alone in this world with no one to take care of him. And despite Miles’s tremendous urge to be there for him, even he knows that he will never be able to offer Alex what he needs the most.

When they are finally told that Alex is ready to see them, the anticipation has become so enormous, so intense, that Jamie and Nick both find themselves taking a deep breath in order to ready themselves. Miles can feel his heart pounding madly and nervously; for a moment he believes it might actually break out through his ribcage. As they enter Alex’s private room, one by one, slowly and respectfully, they find the Helders family still by his bedside. Matt is sitting at the very foot of the bed whilst his Mum, Mrs Helders, is stood hovering over Alex when she sees the three friends entering. 

“Let me know if there’s anything you need, darling,” she whispers as she presses a kiss to the top of Alex’s head. “We’ll be back shortly.” Alex nods slightly without looking any of Matt’s parents in the eye. Mr Helders merely clutches Alex’s shoulder for a moment, before they both turn around to leave the lads alone with him.

No one speaks for a moment. Then Matt jumps down from the hospital bed, gesturing for everyone to come closer and take a seat in the chairs gathered around the bed. But Miles, Jamie and Nick are too overcome to move.

“Look, Alex,” Matt speaks gently, “the whole gang is here to see you, man.”

Alex finally lifts his head and looks over at them. Though there appears to be a hint of interest in his gaze, his eyes appear hollow, empty, almost soulless. Miles’s guts begin to churn as he looks his friend over carefully. Alex’s broken arm is in a sling, strapped to his shoulder. He’s got a black eye and a cut lip, along with a series of random cuts and bruises along his jaw, on his neck and down both his arms. Miles now remembers Matt telling them that he had been ‘banged up’ slightly. But even if his physical injuries are mercifully mild, there is a broken atmosphere surrounding Alex, which seems to have everyone choking up around him as soon as they’ve entered the room.

He looks small and lost and impossibly young in his hospital bed. He looks abandoned. Scared, like a small child. Miles wants to kick himself for thinking the thought, but he’s already beginning to look like an unfortunate, helpless soul – a proper orphan.

“Hey, guys,” Alex speaks unexpectedly, catching everyone off-guard. He sounds deceitfully calm, though his voice sounds almost foreign to them. Miles is beginning to think that, perhaps, they’ve drugged him again. There’s no way that Alex’s calmness feels natural to him.

“Hi, Alex,” Jamie, Nick and himself all mutter in unison, making them feel like huge idiots. Miles cringes immediately, wishing he had the faintest idea of what is expected from him in a situation like this.

“It’s good to see you, man,” Nick ventures suddenly, though every spoken word feels like taking a huge risk. 

“Yeah,” Jamie joins in, leaving Miles silent and even more self-conscious, “we’ve been worried sick about you. We’ve barely left the hospital for two days.”

Alex continues to look at them, though he doesn’t seem to have anything to say. Miles’s head begins to feel boiling hot as he’s mentally screaming at himself, pleading and bargaining with himself to open up his mouth and say something, anything, but to no avail. The pressure’s too overwhelming. He’s suffered a melt-down of some sort. When Alex keeps quiet and keeps perfectly still in his position, leaning up against the pillows in his bed, Matt steps in again in an attempt to ease the tension in the room.

“Look, Al,” he says, “they’ve all brought you flowers. Let me put them on the nightstand for you, mate.” 

Matt walks over to the small group and collects the bouquets of flowers, along with some cards and well-wishing letters that they’ve had friends and even a few neighbours to sign, and he places it all on the nightstand for Alex to see. There are already a few bouquets and boxes of chocolates by his bedside, perhaps from Matt’s family, perhaps from distant relatives, perhaps from people that Miles wouldn’t even know. Alex is a popular and well-liked lad. But it seems that Alex has left everything unopened and untouched so far; every card, every present, every offering.

“Thanks,” Alex pronounces softly, though he barely looks at the flowers.

“I’ll find you some more vases later and put the flowers in water,” Matt tells him thoughtfully, “we wouldn’t want them to wither, would we?”

Alex doesn’t respond to this. Matt has probably gotten used to him not responding to much for the past couple of days. Then, Matt waves again, gesturing for the lads to come closer. Reluctantly, Miles takes a few steps forward along with Nick and Jamie, until they’re all stood directly around Alex’s bed, surrounding him like vultures and scavengers.

“How are you feeling, mate?” Jamie questions uncertainly when no one else seems to know what to say. “I mean – you’re not in pain. Are you?”

Alex merely shrugs at this, looking down at his hands, avoiding their stares. 

“Nah,” he speaks slowly, “I’m alright.”

They wait for him to elaborate, but Alex falls completely silent.

“He’s got a bad concussion, so he’s on some painkillers,” Matt then explains, looking over at Alex as to acknowledge him; he doesn’t like speaking about him in third-person. “The doctors have told him to get as much sleep as he can.”

“Oh,” Nick reacts awkwardly, “sorry to hear that, mate. I hear concussions are a pain in the arse. No TV, no reading, not much you can do. But, you know… Thank God you’re going to be okay otherwise.” 

Once again, Alex says nothing. 

“Yeah,” Matt supplements, “the doctors told us Alex has been lucky. I mean… the crash was so violent. The car was flung about several times. And, uhm – had he not been in the backseat, he definitely wouldn’t have been able to escape with, you know, minor injuries.” 

Something changes in Alex’s expression. After Matt’s explanation, he grows evidently distant as he leans further back against his pillows and fixes his eyes at something not visible to the others. It becomes obvious to Miles that Alex has withdrawn from their conversation both mentally and emotionally. And as the minutes pass, dragging on painfully slowly, Alex continues to stare out the window without paying much attention. Even when, finally, Miles and the others manage to express to him how sorry they are about everything, Alex looks like someone who can hardly bring himself to care.

 

*

 

David’s funeral takes place six days after the crash. Everyone, absolutely everyone attends the ceremony in order to offer their support and pay their respects, including Miles and his parents. Alex is assisted to the church by some hospital staff who have all volunteered to go with him. It seems that some of the nurses have taken quite a shine to the young lad and his gentle nature. Miles hadn’t been aware of it before, but when Alex arrives at the church in a wheelchair being pushed by one of the nurses, he learns that Alex has suffered some pains down his spine, making it difficult for him to walk properly. As the funeral is about to begin and Alex has been seated at the very front, accompanied by Matt and the entire Helders family, Miles watches him from the middle section, where he’s been seated alongside Jamie and Nick’s families. He can’t help but to notice how calm Alex is the whole time; calm and devastatingly quiet. Even when he wipes at his eyes to get rid of the tears, he does this without making any sound at all. 

After the ceremony, when everyone is queueing up in order to make their condolences to the Turners’ abandoned son, one by one, and when everybody bows down to give Alex a hug as he remains in his wheelchair, some of them speaking a few comforting words to him, some of them even ruffling his hair and calling him a ‘good lad’, Miles watches from the back of the queue, feeling lost for words. He still can’t think of anything to say, he can’t think of any gesture at all that would suffice. And finally, as the queue shortens and Miles is up next, Miles finds that Alex simply looks up at him, perhaps with a subtle glimpse of expectancy, and for the first time, he makes a genuine effort to smile – though it turns into the most heart-breaking, sorrowful smile that Miles has ever seen. Alex’s eyes are once again vacant and emotionless – Miles would rather that they were stained with tears. At least that would have been easier to handle.

“Hey, Miles,” Alex speaks quietly, like he’s been speaking to every single person at the church today. Miles is aware that Alex is merely fulfilling his duty and that if he could, he would rather have turned away from all the stares and whispers, so full of pity and feeling sorry for him. But at the same time, Miles can’t help but to feel like Alex is making an exception for him – the sad smile, for one. Alex hasn’t offered a hint of a smile to anyone else, not to Miles’s knowledge.

“Hey, Alex,” Miles whispers croakily, feeling as though he’s swallowed a bug. “Uhm – how are you feeling?”

It is probably the wrong thing for him to ask, but nevertheless, Alex shrugs and makes a small effort to answer the question.

“I’m alright,” he murmurs, looking deadly pale. He’s averting his eyes when their brief exchange of words becomes too intense for him. “Thanks for coming.”

It’s what he’s been telling every single attendee. But Miles is eager to show him that, unlike some people here, he hasn’t come out of pure obligation. He’s here because Alex means more to him than words could ever express, and because of that, Miles leans in and wraps his arms around his friend, careful not to touch his broken arm. Alex flinches slightly at first, perhaps because he hasn’t expected this from any of his mates. But when it becomes clear that Miles isn’t going to let go of him any time soon, Alex relaxes into the embrace and, eventually, he even rests his head exhaustedly against Miles’s shoulder.

It’s the first time that the two of them have ever been this close to one another. And though he’s glad that it has happened, Miles never expected their first embrace to be under these circumstances.

 

*

 

Alex is released from the hospital about two weeks after the funeral of his father. 

Though they’ve been told to no longer skip classes in order to see Alex, Miles, Nick and Jamie, and Matt, too, have all been making sure to go see him every day after school. Sometimes they have taken turns, especially because they fear it’s overwhelming for Alex to have all four of them showing up at once. Even during weekends, the four friends have devoted all of their time taking trips to the hospital, bringing Alex more presents from people at school, letters, cards, flowers, books, fresh clothes, refreshments, biscuits, sweets. Everything he could possibly want or need.

Some afternoons, however, they’ve been told that Alex won’t take any visitors for another hour or two. That he’s busy sitting by his mother’s bedside, at the Intensive Care Unit at the other end of the hospital, sitting next to the machine she’s been attached to – the only thing that’s been keeping her alive so far. Whenever Alex returns from watching his comatose mother, he doesn’t speak a single word about it, and the others aren’t supposed to ask him about it, either. It’s become obvious to everyone, including Alex, that the machines will only be able to keep Penny breathing for so long, and that in a matter of months, or maybe just weeks, there is going to have to be a second funeral for her, too. 

Alex tries his best to smile and to thank everyone every time they pay him visits and bring him presents. Though he’s slowly gotten used to walking again without the pain and is no longer bound to a wheelchair, there is still something so incredibly fragile about him, people are almost scared of laying a finger on him. It’s like he’s suddenly made of glass, like he can be shattered into a million pieces if you’re not careful in the way you handle him.

Though Matt’s family are with him most of the time, it still breaks Miles’s heart to look out through his window at night and into Alex’s room, which is now dark and empty. Alex is no longer there; he’s all alone, in a bed that isn’t his own, surrounded by doctors and nurses that he barely even knows. It was only a few weeks ago that a beautiful, happy boy lived in the house next door with both his parents, and Alex and Miles would smile brightly at each other every time they met. Now that boy seems to have vanished completely; Alex has become something else, someone else. And Miles is scared that they will never be able to go back to being what they were.

 

*

 

As Alex is released from the hospital, Matt’s parents insist on bringing Alex home with them. And though he doesn’t appear back in school for another week’s time, due to strict orders that he must continue to nurse his concussion and his injured spine, Miles can tell that everyone is relieved that he’s made such a speedy recovery. Most of Alex’s cuts and bruises have faded and though he’s been left with a few scars here and there, a particularly nasty one across his jawline, he’s no longer in physical pain and does no longer require the painkillers. 

“Have Matt’s parents told you how long they want you to stay for?” Miles asks him one day when he’s visiting after school. The other lads have come along, too, but they’re in the kitchen with Matt, mixing smoothies for everyone.

“Not really,” Alex replies slowly. He’s been ordered to stay seated in the sofa, where the lumbar support will do him good. He’s been wrapped in a large blanket, in case he gets cold. “Mrs Helders has been mentioning a few things, but I can’t tell if she’s being serious or not.”

“What has she been saying?” Miles asks.

Alex swallows and stalls for a moment. “She’s been telling me that they’re looking into adopting me. I mean, at least until I turn eighteen. But she isn’t sure how these things work. She believes they would have a good case, though, because I’ve known them since I was little.”

Miles’s eyes widen with surprise.

“Wow,” he breathes. “That’s great! How would you feel about that? I mean – would you like to live with Matt’s family permanently?”

Alex’s mouth tightens into a small smile. “Yeah,” he nods, “I think I would really like that.”

Before they know it, they are rejoined by Matt and the others. Jamie is carrying a tea tray full of cold drinks – one smoothie per person. They’ve been mixed with various fruits from the kitchen and with a little bit of vanilla ice cream that Matt has found in the freezer.

“Alright, lads, dig in,” Matt says as they settle down and occupy the living room, “I have no idea how to make smoothies, it’s a drink for girls, anyway. There are a few ones with banana in them, and a little bit of kiwi and one with yellow melon.”

“Do you mean honeydew melon?” Nick butts in, making Jamie laugh at Matt.

“Yeah, whatever,” Matt retorts, “I’m not exactly a melon connoisseur, am I? But save the one with strawberries for Alex. I know it’s his favourite,” Matt says as he winks and smiles at his friend.

 

*

 

On Alex’s first day back in school, the gang is acting more protective of him than ever. Alex’s broken arm is still in a sling, making it so much easier for people to stare at him and to turn their heads and look after him in the hallway. 

“Isn’t that the guy who’s just lost his…” Some of them will whisper, believing that Alex and his friends can’t hear it.

“Yeah, it’s him. I read about it in the paper. There was a picture of the family…”

Miles and the others quickly learn how to walk whilst surrounding Alex, covering his back like a protective shell, like a group of amateur bodyguards. Alex sees what they are trying to do straight away, but he doesn’t comment on any of it. Perhaps he even appreciates the shielding as he isn’t exactly keen to have people approaching him.

It happens eventually, however. During lunch, several mates of his make their way over to his table. Some of them have already offered their condolences at the funeral, including Andy Nicholson, and are merely checking to see if Alex is doing alright. Some of them tell Alex to let them know if there’s anything they can do for him. A few girls ask him if he wants his cast signed, but when they sign it by giving him their phone numbers, Alex grows tense and wishes to fleet the cafeteria right away. Miles and the others pick up on his change of mood immediately, and so, they escort him away from the busy tables and out on the hallway.

Alex is happy to get a break and to get away from everyone’s questions and well-wishes. Matt has suggested that they all head outside for a quick smoke before their next classes. On their way out, however, Alex runs into a familiar face who he hasn’t heard from at all since the accident.

“Alex!” Taylor exclaims suddenly when she sees him. She’s standing in the doorway with a guy named Dennis, whom they all know from PE. He isn’t particularly nice or likeable as a person, though, so they don’t know him all too well. “Oh my God,” she says, “I didn’t know you were back.”

As soon as she knows that she’s got Alex’s attention, she draws Dennis slightly closer, holding on to him as though she wants Alex to know that she is over him now. Alex, however, remains perfectly calm. He seems almost unaffected by her presence.

“Yeah,” he tells her in a fairly normal voice, “I have a lot of catching up to do, so… Here I am.”

Miles can’t help but to remind himself that, despite everything, Taylor didn’t even want to sign the card they’d all written for him collectively. And now, Taylor appears rather confused. Miles isn’t sure what she has expected from Alex – anger, jealousy, a long apology – but it certainly isn’t this. Alex seems more eager than anything to get away from her.

“Right,” she tells him, sounding as though she barely knows what to do, “I mean, you’ve been gone for a while, haven’t you?” Then she pauses to press herself up against the bloke, Dennis, who looks like he would also like to avoid this conversation altogether. She practically grinds against him, forcing his arm around her waist. “Have you met Dennis?” She asks suddenly, managing to make absolutely everyone around her uncomfortable all at once. “We’ve been seeing each other for a few weeks now,” she explains, “but I guess you haven’t been around to notice.”

Miles looks over at Alex and admires the other’s ability to completely mask the anger and disgust that must be running through his mind by this point.

“Right,” Alex tells her, calm and crushingly polite as ever, “I’m afraid I’ve been too busy planning my Dad’s funeral to know what’s been happening in the meantime.” 

Leaving Taylor flabbergasted and stunned, he turns away from her and heads outside without even looking back, knowing that lighting a cigarette will be the only thing that might actually keep him sane at this point. The lads follow after him, though not without expressing some of the outrage they’re feeling.

“Fucking hell, she must be joking,” Matt curses when he turns around to see Taylor kissing Dennis hastily and overly passionately behind their backs, “how desperate is she?”

“Bloody lunatic,” Nick joins in, “you did the right thing avoiding her, Alex.”

“Could she be any more obvious?” Jamie huffs. “I can’t believe she’s trying to make you jealous after all of this.”

But the hardest blow for Taylor to suffer, Miles realises, will always be the fact that, despite the friendship they’ve had, Alex’s eyes are dull with indifference. 

 

*

 

The days drag on painfully slowly. Alex doesn’t adapt too easily as he’s reintroduced to a normal every-day life in school. Most of the time he spends his days following the other lads around blindly, so utterly absorbed in his own thoughts that he pays little or no attention to the world around him. He can no longer concentrate during class. He doesn’t listen, he doesn’t participate, he doesn’t talk. He just sits there, staring into empty air, jumping slightly every time someone speaks to him.

Miles tries his best to give him as much space as he needs, though he doesn’t exactly like the idea of leaving Alex to his own devices, either. He and the others have asked him several times, though slightly awkwardly, if Alex feels like talking about it. They keep offering him their help and support in multiple ways, but Alex never seems to want to ask them for anything. He seems slightly embarrassed every time someone makes a fuss over him. 

The worst classes for him now appears to be the English classes with Ms. Hayward. Their female teacher is so used to Alex being confident and clever, she can’t help but to prod him and encourage him every now and again, hoping that somehow he’ll grow inspired enough to participate again. 

“Let’s talk about Paul Auster’s “City of Glass” for a moment,” Ms. Hayward announces one day, looking her pupils over in hope that someone will offer her a look of interest, “it’s a work that contains a number of postmodern elements, such as the notion of nothingness, anonymity and fragmentation between people and reality. But what else can be said about the work?” When absolutely no one seems to have anything to add to her list, Ms. Hayward chews her lip hesitantly, her eyes darting towards Alex and Miles’s table carefully. “Turner,” she speaks as gently and reassuringly as she possibly can, “can you think of other postmodern elements that we’ve come across in the text?”

Alex blinks suddenly, as though he’s just woken up from a dream. He tenses instantly and recoils at the sensation of being watched by a number of people in the classroom. Miles wants to help, to bring him out of this situation somehow, but there is little he can do except watch.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Hayward,” Alex finally admits, “I kinda forgot to read the text.”

Alex doesn’t look mortified, or ashamed. He looks ashen and utterly sick, like this very classroom has forced the soul out of his body. Miles looks ahead and spots Taylor in the front row, sitting next to her boy toy, Dennis. There’s a disgusting grin on her lips as she turns around to watch Alex squirm under everyone’s eyes, and when she whispers something to Dennis in order to make him laugh, Miles wishes he could throw his textbook across the classroom and hit her straight on the nose with it. 

 

*

 

After a week’s time, Matt begins to tell Miles and the others that his parents want Alex to see a therapist. He’s not dealing with his trauma very well as he’s refusing to talk about what’s happened. Alex makes his trips to the hospital every other day in order to see his mother, even if there isn’t much to see except from a sleeping woman, who’s a little bit closer to death every day. There is nothing that anyone can do for her, but as long as Alex is still able to see her, he refuses to deal with reality.

“My parents are worried that he’s going to suffer some sort of emotional breakdown if he doesn’t find a way to talk about his feelings soon,” Matt tells them glumly one afternoon when they are stood outside smoking. Alex has been scheduled for a conversation with some of his teachers who are all starting to worry about him, so he isn’t with them this time. “My Mum keeps saying that he isn’t supposed to be this quiet. She would rather that he cried or threw tantrums instead.”

“Fucking hell,” says Nick as he exhales loudly, “it’s getting worse every day. I almost can’t stand to see him like that anymore.”

“I know, but what can we do?” Jamie shrugs. “I don’t want to force him to talk about things if he doesn’t want to. I mean, he’s lost everything, hasn’t he? His Dad, soon his Mum too. He’s even lost his home. No offense to your family, Matt, but he’s just living like a guest in your house at the moment, isn’t he?”

“My Mum insists he isn’t just a guest,” Matt tells him, “she wants to keep him. Make him part of the family, I mean. But that’s not enough to make up for everything he’s lost, I suppose.”

“Does he really not cry?” Miles questions with concern, frowning at everything Matt’s told them. He hates the idea of talking about Alex behind his back, but since Alex isn’t asking anyone for help, it seems that they have to take matters into own hands. “Like, not even at all?”

“Not really,” Matt ponders tentatively, “I mean – I dunno if I’m supposed to tell you this. But every now and again, he has these nightmares. It sounds to me like he’s having dreams about the car crash itself. When he wakes up after that, he’ll cry and panic for a bit. But he always refuses to talk about it.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Helders are going away for the weekend, so Alex spends a few days at Miles's house. When Alex still refuses to talk about his feelings, Miles confronts him about the nightmares that he's been having.
> 
> In other words, this is going to be another emotional one x

The following weekend, the Helders family are supposed to go to a birthday party somewhere near Leeds. Though Mrs Helders insists that Alex should come along with them, ignoring the fact that he obviously isn’t part of the invitation, Alex politely declines. It isn’t hard for Miles to see why the idea would make him uncomfortable; when you’ve lost something as significant as your parents, the last thing you would want to do is surround yourself by someone else’s entire family. You don’t want to be reminded of what you don’t have.

Miles’s Mum tells Miles to invite Alex over as soon as she hears. 

“That poor boy can’t spend the whole weekend on his own,” she announces at the dinner table, and even Miles’s Dad agrees, “loneliness can trigger awful things in people who’ve lost someone they love. I hate to imagine what could happen to him if no one’s there to watch over him.”

“Are you saying that he would harm himself?” Miles asks her, overwhelmed by sudden fear. The idea of Alex wanting to hurt himself physically in order to deal with his grief is beyond terrifying to him.

“You never know in these situations,” his Mum tells him bluntly, “there might be subtle cries for help that people overlook completely. And then suddenly, when you think the whole world has abandoned you, you become desperate and take drastic measures…”

“Pauline,” Miles’s Dad interrupts her uncomfortably, “I’m not sure we ought to be talking about this in front of…”

“No,” she insists, “it needs to be said. I want to teach my Miles how to look out for the warning signs. God forbid he should ever wind up in Alex’s shoes…”

“Pauline!” Miles’s Dad objects again.

“I’m just saying, it happens,” she continues, unbothered by the sudden tension, “if Miles should suddenly become an orphan…”

“Mum, please don’t call Alex an orphan,” Miles pleads. 

“Why?” Pauline looks at him with surprise. “That’s exactly what he’s become, isn’t it?”

 

*

 

Though Miles wants to remain supportive and understanding, he can’t help but to feel a small twinge of disappointment when, much against his expectations, Alex doesn’t seem keen on spending the weekend at his house. He gets that it must be frustrating to be tossed around from one family to another, always having to rely on other people to look after him when all he really wants is his parents back. But Miles had thought and hoped that, perhaps, Alex would find some sort of comfort in spending some time alone with Miles. The two of them are supposed to be close, aren’t they? They are supposed to be able to connect with one another and God damn it, Miles has waited so long to finally be able to do something good for Alex. 

Miles doesn’t understand what the problem is until, in the end, Alex is persuaded to come to their house Friday evening. Then he sees it. The neighbouring house right next to his own. The empty, dark number 13. The former home of the Turners – a family that is no more. 

When they are settling down in Miles’s room that night, Miles can still feel the tension building up inside Alex, simply from knowing that he’s so close to his old house without being home at all. Miles tries to divert his attention. He even closes the curtains so that Alex won’t be able to peer into his now abandoned bedroom. It doesn’t do him any good. When they both get ready for bed that night, Alex is silent and withdrawn. 

“Would you like a cigarette before bed?” Miles offers stupidly, knowing that this is, indeed, a very shallow gesture. “My parents won’t mind it as long as we open a window.”

“Hm? Oh, no thanks. I’m good.” 

He’s not good.

Alex begins to unpack the few items he’s been able to bring with him. A spare pillow he’s been given by Mrs Helders, the duvet he’s borrowed from Miles’s Mum. He’s getting ready to settle down on the floor, next to the cheap sleeping pad that Miles’s Dad was able to find in their garage. Miles wasn’t exactly used to having friends sleeping over when he was younger.

“What are you doing?” Miles asks him incredulously. “You’re not sleeping on the floor tonight.”

“Oh,” Alex says in an almost ghostly voice, “I thought…”

“Nah, mate, I’ll sleep on the floor,” Miles tells him, “you’ll be sleeping in my bed.”

“Miles, it’s your bed,” Alex points out to him slightly awkwardly, “I don’t mind sleeping on the floor.”

“I know you don’t,” Miles says, because he knows for a fact that Alex doesn’t mind much these days, “but I’d be a pretty rotten friend if I offered you a sleeping pad, especially since you’ve hurt your spine and you’ve got a broken arm. It’s basically a piece of cardboard, you know, there’s no comfort in it.”

“Then I don’t want you to sleep on it, either,” Alex insists and just like that, Miles realises that they might have a problem.

“What are you suggesting, then?” Miles questions carefully, not wanting to dismiss Alex altogether. 

“I dunno,” Alex hesitates for a moment. “I mean, your bed seems big enough for two, I guess.”

Miles has no idea if Alex is suggesting this out of politeness or if he’s actually feeling the need to be close to someone. But all he can do, of course, is accept Alex’s request, hoping that it is sincere. That night, Alex seems perfectly calm as the two of them lie down next to one another, wrapped up in each their own duvets. All Miles can think about is how he’s always dreamed of sharing a bed with the other. He tries his best not to observe Alex’s small, slender frame by his side, tries not to imagine what it would feel like to wrap his arms around him and spoon Alex from behind. Perhaps smell his beautiful hair, too.

“Are you comfortable?” Miles asks him foolishly, offering himself an excuse to look over at the other. “I mean, is the mattress alright for your back?”

Alex can’t help but to grin slightly. “Yeah, Miles, I’m really comfy,” he says, “cheers.”

“Do you want me to leave the lights on or off?” 

“Bloody hell, Miles, I’m not eight years old.” For the first time in a long time, Alex smiles at him genuinely and produces the sweetest, most charming, little giggle. “Sleeping in the dark is fine by me, thanks.”

Miles feels instantly relieved and can’t help but to laugh at himself.

“Sorry about that,” he says, “when I was younger, people never used to sleep at my house.”

“I can tell,” Alex chuckles teasingly.

For a moment, it feels like having his old Alex back and much to his own surprise, Miles is close to tearing up as a result. He’s never longed to touch and to hold Alex in his arms as much as he does now. It takes him several moments to collect himself and to get over it. Then, when he’s finally able to take a deep breath and turn around to face Alex once again, Miles sees that the other has already closed his eyes and readied himself to sleep.

 

*

 

Miles can’t remember what he’s been dreaming when, a few hours later, he’s awoken by what feels like an elbow to his ribs. He jerks awake with a grunt and blinks in confusion. Then, as he becomes aware, he hears a loud, desperate whimpering, which forces him to wonder how he could have slept through these noises in the first place.

“Alex!” He exclaims, sitting upright in the bed. “Alex, wake up!”

The other doesn’t hear him. Alex is too busy twisting and turning in the bed and kicking off the covers in despair. He cries and pleads almost manically, throwing his one good arm about and nudging Miles once again by accident. It’s like he’s defending himself against something. The way Alex is acting, you would think it was a matter of life or death.

“Alex!” Miles says a little louder, shaking his friend carefully by the shoulder. “You’re having a nightmare – wake up!”

Miles’s touching him only seems to drive Alex over the edge. 

“No,” he cries loudly and suddenly, forcing Miles to jerk and take his hands off him, “no, no, stop…” 

Alex is thrashing even more violently now. If Miles doesn’t find a way to make him calm down soon, he’s going to injure himself. Quickly, Miles turns on the lights and rolls out of the bed, running over to Alex’s side.

“Al,” he begs him once again, placing both hands on the other’s shoulders, pressing him down against the matrass in an attempt to make him lie still, “Alex, it’s me. It’s Miles. Everything’s okay, it’s just a dream…”

Finally, Alex snaps out of it. He produces a small yelp and presses against Miles’s hands with his chest in an attempt to sit up, but Miles makes sure to keep him in place. Alex’s eyes spring open and he gasps for air a couple of times, his entire chest heaving painfully underneath Miles’s hands. He’s shaking badly.

“Al,” Miles breathes, aiming to talk to him as soothingly as he possibly can, “you’re alright. It was just a bad dream. Do you remember where you are?”

Alex moves his head upwards, locking eyes with Miles unexpectedly. His eyes are widened and rounded by fear. He reminds Miles of a toddler who’s just woken up from a bad dream, only to find himself in a stranger’s bed. Miles is practically expecting Alex to cry for his parents any minute now.

“M-Miles?” Alex finally speaks, his voice trembling even worse than his body.

“Yeah, it’s me,” Miles forces a sad smile, letting go of Alex’s chest slowly as he doesn’t want to come across as oppressive, “you’re alright. It was just a nightmare.”

Before Miles can do anything further to appease his friend, Alex bursts into tears. 

 

*

 

Ten minutes later, Alex is still sobbing inconsolably and Miles has resolved to sitting in the middle of the bed with his arms wrapped around him protectively. Alex is shaking and gasping like it’s hard for him to breathe. He’s leaning against Miles, like it would be impossible for him to remain seated otherwise. Miles has become his rock; everything that he can depend on and trust.

“Alex, are you sure you’re okay?” Miles asks him for the tenth time. “Have you hurt your arm? You were moving about quite a lot, is all.”

“No, I’m fine,” Alex manages to tell him as he wipes his eyes with the back of his hand, “I’m sorry. We can go back to bed now if you want.”

“What? No – Alex, we need to talk about this. You need to talk about it.”

“I’m fine, Miles,” he says again, removing himself from the other carefully, “it’s fine – I’m sure it won’t happen again. I usually don’t have nightmares…”

Miles can’t help but to confront the other; he knows that Alex is trying to deny the graveness of the situation.

“Matt says that it’s been happening quite a lot recently,” he bursts out, forgetting that he shouldn’t manipulate Alex into talking about things if he doesn’t want to, “it sounds to me like it’s the same sort of nightmare you’re having over and over again. So it doesn’t seem to me like you’re fine.”

Alex freezes and the look on his face soon has Miles regretting his own thoughtlessness.

“I didn’t realise Matt would tell anyone about that,” is all Alex whispers. 

“Alex, I’m sorry,” Miles sighs, “I shouldn’t have said that. But come on, you can’t keep doing this to yourself. You need to tell someone about it. You can talk to me – you know that, right? I’m here for you.”

“I know you are,” Alex mutters quietly, laying himself down against the mattress, “but I don’t want to talk about it.”

“You can’t keep everything bottled up inside like that,” Miles warns him one final time, “you’re not doing yourself any favours.”

“Miles, please – just let it go, will you?”

But only a few moments later, as they’ve both rearranged themselves and prepared to go back to sleep, Alex breaks into another round of crying.

 

*

 

The following morning, Miles wakes up to an empty bed and is on the verge of panicking until he realises that Alex hasn’t left. He’s sitting quietly by the window, looking out at what can only be his parents’ house. The home, in which Penny would usually spend her Saturday mornings cooking eggs and bacon with David sitting at the table with a glass of orange juice and a newspaper in his hands, is now completely silent and deserted. Alex is never again going to wake up at eleven o’clock in his old bedroom only to walk downstairs and be greeted by his parents, then bullocked slightly for sleeping his day away. His mother is never again going to ask him how he wants his eggs done, or if he’s taken his laundry basket with him downstairs. His father will never be able to look up at him again and laugh: “How much did you drink last night, lad?”

“Alex?” Miles sits up in the bed and looks over at him worriedly. Alex doesn’t turn around to face him. “How long have you been up for?”

At this, Alex merely shrugs his shoulders.

“M’not sure,” he whispers. “Maybe a couple of hours.”

“A couple of hours?” Miles rubs at his eyes. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

At this, Alex chuckles lightly. “I’ve already woken you up enough, don’t you think? Besides, you looked so peaceful…”

Miles feels his cheeks go red instantly. He has always imagined himself waking up to watch Alex sleep, but he’s never imagined the scenario the other way around. 

“I wouldn’t have minded,” Miles tells him hesitantly. However, as he removes the duvet and gets out of the bed, he has a feeling that Alex is no longer listening to him. He begins to walk across the room, joining Alex by the windowsill. “Alex?” He asks the other carefully, noticing how he’s staring out through the window almost as though he’s in a trance.

“I want to go back,” Alex says suddenly, taking Miles by surprise.

“Huh?” 

“I want to go back. To the house, I mean. My parents’ house.” Alex bites his lip and finally tears his gaze away from the familiar scene in front of him which is everything that he longs for. “Before you say anything, Miles – I know. I know it sounds stupid. I know it’s probably not what I need right now. But I still want to do it.”

“Hey,” Miles corrects him, “it’s not for me to say what you need or don’t need right now. I get it, Alex, I mean – it’s your home for crying out loud. But how? How are you going to go back?”

“It hasn’t been cleared yet,” Alex tells him, “all the furniture is still there. All my stuff… And I’ve still got the key.” Alex pauses for a moment. “I want to do it tonight, Miles. I want to sleep in my old bed tonight.”

 

*

 

Even though he doesn’t say it, it seems obvious to Miles that Alex wants him to come with. They don’t speak a word about it to Miles’s parents that night, believing that, perhaps, they would try to persuade them that it’s a bad idea. Consequently, they wait around until they are certain that Mr and Mrs Kane are asleep before they make their move. 

“It feels weird creeping out of my own house in the middle of the night,” Miles whispers as the two of them are heading downstairs, desperately trying not to make a sound.

“I know,” Alex tells him, “it feels even weirder sneaking into my parents’ house in secret. Like I’m a burglar or summat.”

However, despite the paranoia that follows with in the act of breaking an unwritten rule, they both succeed in doing exactly that. Alex shows Miles around to the backside of the house, where they unlock the door to the kitchen and step inside. Miles’s first instinct is to reach for the light switch as he can’t see a thing, but Alex stops him last second.

“People aren’t supposed to know that anyone’s here,” he reminds him.

“How are we supposed to make it upstairs?” Miles asks. “I can’t even see my own hand in front of me.”

“Use the light from your phone,” Alex suggests, “just follow my steps, I know every inch of this place.”

Miles does as he’s told and follows closely after Alex. Somehow he manages to make his way upstairs and into the other’s bedroom without falling down and breaking his neck. Even though it would have been ten times easier with the lights on, Miles has a small suspicion that Alex is secretly grateful to find himself in the dark. As if it isn’t hard enough to be back home after everything that he’s been through, at least Alex is able to spare himself from the pain of watching the family pictures in the hallway, reminding him so cruelly that only a third of the smiling family being portrayed together is still here today. 

Alex closes the door behind them as soon as he can, as though he’s trying to keep the ghosts of this haunted house out from the bedroom that seems to have become his only sanctuary.

“Okay, Miles,” he breathes, “I think we can turn the lights on now.”

 

*

 

Alex spends a long time just sitting on top of his bed that night, staring into empty air, then looking around him as though he can barely recognise the room he grew up in, or as though he can no longer tell what is real and what is not. 

“Are you okay?” Miles questions after a while, when he figures it’ll be alright for them to talk again. Alex has gone rather pale and yet at the same time, there is something in his posture which makes him seem more relaxed, more at ease.

“I think so,” Alex mutters tiredly. “It’s weird – it feels almost good to be back. I mean… This is my room. My bed. For once I’m not sleeping on other people’s sofas. For once, I’m not a guest.”

Miles smiles sadly at this. “The Helders think of you as more than just a guest,” Miles tells him. “But I think I understand.”

Alex nods pensively. “I don’t mean to be ungrateful to everyone who’s taken me in. It’s just… not the same.”

“I know.”

Then, after another moment, Alex smirks. “It’s funny – I can still smell my Mum’s special soap in the bedsheets. I mean, the one she’d use for laundry and stuff. It’s – it’s almost as though she’s still here.”

That night, Alex falls asleep easily and comfortably because for the first time in a long time, he’s home in familiar surroundings. He’s busy reliving all the old familiar smells and senses, feeling free and secure in knowing that he’s come back to where he belongs, where no one has taken him in out of pity or sympathy, but where he has a name, a history, a free space of his own. He looks so relieved and calm as he relaxes into his old bed, Miles feels heartbroken to remind himself that Alex’s bliss cannot last for longer than a single night. Though Alex makes space for Miles under the covers, he falls asleep before he’s able to realise that Miles has decided to stay up, just for a while longer, so that he can watch Alex sleep undisturbed and uncrowded for once, without being burdened by grief, without waking up screaming because he’s been caught in a horrendous nightmare. 

For one night only, everything has gone back to how it was before.

The grief only reappears on his face the morning after when, sadly, Alex wakes up and announces:

“I wish I didn’t have to go. I wish I could just stay here for the rest of my life.”

The Turners’ house has become a monument, a marker of everything that was and will never be again. But more importantly: For now, as Alex lingers where time stands still and memory still is, he is able to hide away from the inevitable future, from change, from loneliness, and from people getting on with their lives mercilessly. 

“We really should be going,” Miles tells him eventually, though it pains him, “my parents might already know we’re missing.”

 

*

 

Sunday afternoon, just a few hours before the Helders are supposed to return from Leeds, Alex announces that he would like to go visit his mother in the hospital. Though Miles’s parents offer to drive him there, Alex insists that he’ll take a bus. It seems easier for everyone. However, as he gets ready to pack his things and walk out of Park Lane, Miles makes a spontaneous decision and asks if he can join him.

“You wanna see my Mum in the hospital?” Alex questions with bewilderment as he wraps his coat around his shoulders, unable to fit his broken arm into the sleeve.

“I…” Miles falters at first, realising that Alex’s mother is hooked up to a machine in the ICU, unresponsive and unable to ever wake up again. The hospital staff probably won’t allow anyone who isn’t family to see her. “I just don’t want you to be alone,” Miles finally admits.

Alex looks slightly dumbfounded. Then he quietly nods, though Miles never learns the truth; if Alex would, in reality, have preferred to be on his own for some time. “Of course you can come,” his answer is. His eyes are all empty-looking again, but at the very least, Miles is happy to not be pushed away.

They make their way there, arriving just before four o’clock in the afternoon. Alex seems to get gradually tenser as they talk to the staff in reception and get a nurse to follow them both to Penny’s bedside. The nurse is a middle-aged woman who appears to recognise Alex immediately. She hugs him tightly and ruffles his hair in an almost maternal fashion, which has Miles feeling awkwardly out of place.

“How is the concussion these days?” She asks and looks Alex over thoroughly, instructing him to look up so that she can have a look at the scar by his jaw. “Still healing slowly, I see,” she notes, grasping his shoulder, “you’re not in any pain, are you?”

“No, I’m better now,” Alex tells her with an emotionless smile, though Miles can tell that he relaxes more evidently around her, “looking forward to getting the cast off, though.”

“I bet,” she nods, “it’ll probably be another few weeks if I remember correctly. Are people looking after you alright, dear?”

“Yeah,” Alex tells her genuinely, “everyone’s been really great.”

She pulls him close once again, though only for a moment. Alex is now lowering his gaze slightly, his eyes threatening to spill over.

“It’s good to see that you’re coping alright,” she sighs, keeping her arm around his shoulders, “it’s right this way, dear, but you know that.” Then she pauses and looks over at Miles, smiling uncertainly. “Is your friend here coming with?”

“Yeah,” Alex says, “he knew my mother, too.”

“Oh. I’m very sorry.”

 

*

 

Alex doesn’t let the tears spill before they’ve been led to Penny’s room. He’s been holding everything back bravely – though, when the nurse rubs his back and tells him that she will be back in half an hour, Alex is shaking too painfully to respond. As soon as he and Miles are alone, Alex bites his lip and breaks into a quiet sob as he steps closer to the bed, bends over and presses a kiss to Penny’s forehead.

“Hi, Mum,” he whispers brokenly, “I’m sorry I haven’t been to see you in a few days.”

He is too choked up to continue. Miles’s mouth falls open in shock as he looks down at the woman in the bed whom he used to know in life as Mrs Turner – a beautiful, charming, sweet woman with brown, short hair and a kind smile, not unlike Alex. Now, all he sees is the body of a woman who is somehow caught between life and death, trapped in a body that shouldn’t belong to her. Her face is messed up pretty bad; she’s got bruises and red marks covering her face even though it’s been weeks since the accident. She’s battered, black and blue. One of her cheeks is so badly swollen, you can barely see her left eye. Miles gulps stupidly, feeling sick in his stomach. Even though he knows that the accident must have been violent, it looks so much worse than he could have possibly imagined. If he was ever to see his own mother like this, so beaten and broken, and lifeless, he would never be able to get over it.

Alex’s sniffles are enough to force Miles back into reality. He’s now holding his mother’s hand silently as the tears continue to stream down both his cheeks. 

“I’m sorry, Miles,” he mutters excruciatingly, his voice gone all raspy, “you don’t have to stay if you don’t want to.”

Miles feels mortified at the idea that Alex is able to detect his discomfort.

“What? No, Alex, of course I want to stay,” Miles says quickly, clearing his voice nervously, “here, why don’t you have a seat?”

Miles pulls out two chairs, dragging them over to the very bedside. When Alex doesn’t move, Miles merely brings the chair up behind him, guiding Alex by pressing his shoulder downwards. When the other finally sits down, without letting go of his mother’s hand, Miles’s sighs:

“Alex, I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine what you must be feeling…”

Miles lets his hand linger by the other’s shoulder, though Alex is too wound up to notice his touch.

“I just – I just don’t like the idea of leaving her all by herself,” Alex sobs, “I mean, I know that she isn’t really there – not anymore, but… Someone should still be with her.”

“I know, I know,” Miles comforts him as he takes a seat in the chair next to him, “but it’s not like you’ve let her down in any way, Al. I hope you know that. You’ve done all you can to be there for her. There’s nothing more that you, or anyone, can do for her that hasn’t been done.”

Alex doesn’t answer to that. 

“I just can’t get it out of my head,” he chokes and gasps, on the brink of losing himself completely in front of Miles, “the moment it happened – the crash…”

Alex sobs even louder this time. His shoulders are tensing and quivering for Miles to feel. Miles widens his eyes in response to Alex’s reaction. He hasn’t expected it, not here, not now, but suddenly it seems that, after all this time, Alex is finally opening up and talking about what happened that night. 

“I-is that what your nightmares are about?” Miles ventures carefully, looking straight into the other’s pain-stricken eyes. “The crash?”

“There was blood everywhere,” Alex merely weeps, “I couldn’t tell if it was my parents’ blood or my own… I just remember my Mum screaming at my Dad right before we collided with that other car… Then we got knocked over and started rolling around and I couldn’t hear anything else after that…”

Alex drops his mother’s hand in order to cover his eyes with his own. He’s breathing in quick, short pants. He’s beginning to sound like he’s panicking.

“Oh God,” Miles whispers, feeling as though someone’s been punching all the air out of his stomach, “Alex, I had no idea…”

“I didn’t want to survive it,” he then cries frantically, forcing Miles to wrap his arms around him in order to keep him from saying such awful things, “my parents didn’t survive it, the guy in the other car didn’t survive it… I wish I had died instead of them!”

“No – no, Alex, don’t say that,” Miles begs him, holding on to him with all the force he can muster, “they would want you to survive. I know it. They would do anything to make sure that you were okay, they would put you first – any parent would.” Miles then says something, which Alex has probably heard from others before, but that Miles has never spoken with such sincerity before in his life: “I’m so grateful that you made it out. I mean, after all, you were the only survivor. You – you could have died.” Miles nearly adds ‘I could have lost you forever’, but he hesitates. This isn’t about him.

Alex seems less moved by this reality.

“It should have been me,” he insists fiercely, “I should have suffered a heart attack instead of my Dad. And I should have banged my head against the cockpit instead of my Mum… How come they had to suffer, but I came out fine?”

Miles has heard of survivor’s guilt before, but he’s never actually understood it until now. 

“I have nothing to live for,” Alex continues to whimper, “my life’s in fucking pieces… They would be able to live on without me, but I don’t know how to live on without them!”

“Alex!” Miles gasps, grabbing his friend’s cheeks with both hands and forcing the other to look back at him. “Alex, look at me – you are not alone. Do you hear me? You have people around you. People care for you. People love you. Matt loves you. Jamie loves you, Nick loves you. I love you… I’ll always be here for you, Alex, do you understand? I’m never leaving you behind. Not in a million years.”

And on that bombshell, Miles leans in and presses a kiss to Alex’s forehead, lingering there tenderly until, slowly, the crying subsides.

 

*

 

Miles doesn’t assume they’ll talk about it any time soon. However, when they get on the bus back an hour later, Alex takes in a deep breath and looks over at him. He’s utterly pale, to the point where he’s starting to look a bit feeble. His eyes are red and sore from crying and the devastation is still painted all over his face.

“Miles…” He begins, though he’s slightly lost for words. “What you said earlier-“

“Alex,” Miles cuts him off abruptly, suddenly fearing Alex’s reaction to his revelation, “you don’t need to tell me anything. It’s okay. I know you’ve got other things on your mind.”

“Yeah, but-“

“This is not about me,” Miles reminds him, “I don’t want to make any of this about myself.”

“But you must have said it for a reason,” Alex tells him. 

Miles opens his mouth and closes it again a couple of times. “I just wanted to remind you that – you do have people to live for.” Miles tenses and looks away as soon as he’s said it. He isn’t expecting Alex to comment on it, or thank him, or to even find comfort in his words. Miles kissed Alex’s forehead. He actually pressed his lips against the other’s skin. And Alex must be wondering what his intentions were. Whether they were romantic or simply amicable. But then again, Alex knows how Miles feels about him. Miles knows that he knows, and has known for a long time.

“Miles,” Alex whispers, and just like that, Miles has run out of places, in which he can continue to hide from the truth, “you know that I – care – about you, too. I mean, you know how I feel. Right? I’m just… not ready to take things further. I mean, not right now…”

“Alex, you don’t need to explain yourself,” Miles assures him with a kind, only slightly disappointed smile, “I’m not expecting you to be ready for anything like that. I would never pressure you into things. You know that, right?”

“Right.” Alex hangs his head, like he’s uncomfortable, or tired, or miserable, or everything all at once. “I just want you to know that – I will be ready. One day.”

Miles cocks an eyebrow and studies the other closer than he probably should, given the circumstances.

“Take all the time you need,” Miles assures him, “because like I said, I won’t go anywhere. I will be here any time you need me.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miles is forced to demonstrate just how loyal he is to Alex. However, when he starts a fist fight with one of Alex's tormentors, it doesn't earn him the reaction that he had hoped for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo, this is my longest chapter yet!
> 
> But don't worry, it's going to be worth it - I hope! It contains *important* progress for some people, if you know what I mean ;) 
> 
> Also, I feel like I should apologise to anyone who might be fans of the Kooks - please know that it's all just a joke. (You'll see what I'm referring to) :-D
> 
> In addition, I feel like I should warn you that there is going to be loads of swearing in this one. Please bear with me :P

THREE WEEKS LATER

 

The gang are all sat smoking by the benches outside when, unfortunately, Miles stirs things up unintentionally by bringing up the possibly most controversial topic he could have chosen. In his defense, however, he only brings it up in an attempt to lighten the mood, unaware of his own mistake. Alex has been quiet and acting reserved all day, no – all week. All month. Everybody is growing desperate, because nothing seems to cheer him up any longer. He’s forever silent, removed from them, isolated and too lost in his own thoughts. He barely ever laughs at anything anymore, not even Matt’s jokes, not Jamie’s stories, or Nick’s parodies. 

Believing that he’s picked a topic that might actually catch Alex’s interest for once, Miles utters foolishly:

“I wonder what Luke’s party is going to be like. You guys are all going, right?”

One at a time, they all look up at Miles dully, clearly not impressed with this change of conversation.

“Luke who?” Matt questions disinterestedly. “Hamilton?”

“No,” Miles tells him, “Pritchard, you git. He’s the one throwing a party this Friday.”

“Luke Pritchard?” Nick repeats, furrowing his brow. “Which one is he again? Is he the sissy who’s got hair like a poodle? You know, the one from Bristol.”

“Brighton,” Jamie corrects him.

“Yeah, that’s the one,” Miles laughs, “what’s wrong? Don’t you guys like him?”

“Ha!” Matt snorts loudly, catching Miles off guard. “He’s just a whiney wanker who thinks he’s tough even though he’s from Brighton. Pain in the arse, he is.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jamie agrees, “he’s always tellin’ people these stories that are beyond exaggerated. Everyone can tell he’s a bloody liar. He’s just trying to draw attention to himself.”

“What stories will he be telling?” Miles quizzes with genuine curiosity. He’s only talked to Luke a few times. In fact, Miles can’t even claim to actually know the guy. All he knows is that he’s been invited to this bloke’s party – therefore, he’s prepared to give the fellow a chance.

“Oh you know, just these made-up stories about himself being an absolute prick to other people,” Nick huffs, “he thinks it’ll make people like him, but only stupid people fall for that kind of thing. He’s always bragging about fights he’s been in, claiming that he sometimes drives all the way down to London for the weekend, just to go to all of the trendy night clubs. What a dickhead.”

“Yeah,” Matt grins lazily, “I just remember this story he told everyone about kicking another guy in the face. Turned out it wasn’t true, he was just being jealous of someone.”

Jamie and Nick laugh and shake their heads. Miles hesitates for a moment.

“Right,” he says, “so you’re not going?”

“Nah,” Matt shrugs, “I might go if he’s got booze. It’s just a house party, right?”

“Yeah,” Miles tells him, “apparently his parents are in Paris for the weekend.”

“Ha!” Jamie laughs. “What a bellend.” 

“Yeah,” Nick breaks in, “I bet he’s lying about that, too. Still, could go for a couple of free beers, I guess.”

“What time does it start?” Jamie asks.

“Uh, I dunno,” Miles drawls, pretending not to have read the invitation he’s received on his phone at least five times, “probably around eight, I guess.”

“Right,” Matt says, “we’ll show up at ten, then. Like all the cool kids.”

The others nod in agreement and for a moment, it’s all settled. Then Alex looks up at them. Though he’s been quiet all day, he suddenly interrogates:

“Did you all get invitations from him?” His expression is calm and slightly detached. Miles can tell that Alex is hardly bothered. Still, something inside him aches painfully when Alex adds: “Because I didn’t get one.”

 

*

 

“Oh hell no!” Matt shouts and gets up from the bench, looking the schoolyard over in desperation. “No one gets away with shit like that! I’m going to show that little prick – where is he? Where’s that little bastard hiding?”

They all look up at Matt in absolute shock. Miles has never seen him act this way before. Matt’s eyes are thundering dangerously and he’s clenching his fists like he’s getting ready to fight.

“Matt, calm down,” Alex tells him serenely. Even now, there’s a hint of indifference in his expression. “I wasn’t going to go, anyway.”

“Alex, don’t you dare defend him,” Matt yells, “who the fuck does that idiot think he is? Luke Pritchard from Brighton whose parents are in Paris for the weekend – I’m going to kick his teeth in!”

“Matt, no!” Alex shouts at him as their friend disappears inside, pretending not to hear him.

“Shit,” Nick exclaims and everyone eyes each other worriedly, “maybe we should follow him.”

“Bloody hell,” Jamie chuckles lightly, “is it bad that I kind of want him to punch Luke in the eye?”

No one answers. Instead, they jump to their feet and stagger after Matt as quickly as they can. It isn’t hard to tell where Matt’s gone. They are able to follow him just by listening to the bellows echoing all the way through the hallway:

“Luke Pritchard, you cunt! Where the fuck are you? Show your face, you fucking coward!”

Nick and Jamie sprint after Matt, running as fast as they can. Alex, on the other hand, struggles slightly. Though he’s doing a lot better and though his arm is finally back to normal, he isn’t really able to run. His spine is still too delicate, he risks straining himself. Miles grabs a hold of Alex’s arm, walking him down the hallway slowly, as though he’s worried that Alex might actually attempt to run and has decided to obstruct him from doing so. He doesn’t want Alex to hurt himself.

“Fucking hell,” Alex pants, allowing Miles to seize his arm, “I can’t believe he’s overreacting like that. I – I don’t want Matt to get in trouble over something so stupid.”

“Alex, it sounds like Luke deliberately invited everyone to his party except you,” Miles says, “I’m just as angry as Matt, I’m just – showing it in a different way.”

“It doesn’t matter, though, does it? I don’t care about his party,” Alex retorts. “Besides, it could have just been a mistake.”

When they finally catch up with the group, Miles and Alex are both horrified to see that Matt has managed to track Luke down, in the middle of the hallway, for everybody to see. Luke is standing with a few friends of his own, including Taylor, but everyone’s too focused on Matt to take surprise in that. Matt is stood with his fists clenched right in front of him and it seems now that Nick and Jamie, rather than attempting to talk some sense into him, are both covering his back instead, towering up behind Matt in case Luke or anybody else should start something. Everybody turns their heads around and stare in Alex’s direction as he and Miles arrive at the scene.

“Hey, Turner!” Luke shouts triumphantly, ignoring Matt’s threatening glare. “If you wanted to come to my party so bad, you could have just asked me for an invitation. You don’t have to be all shy about it!”

Luke’s idiotic friends begin to laugh and though Miles doesn’t want to pay her any attention whatsoever, he can’t help but to notice the fact that Taylor places her hand on Luke’s shoulder, as to tell the others that she’s on his side now.

“You shut your bloody mouth!” Matt snaps at him, taking one step forward which has all of them falling silent. “No one wants to come to your stupid, pretentious party anyway! But why the fuck would you invite everyone except from Alex? What kind of twisted game are you trying to play, mate?”

“Oh, back off, tough guy,” Luke sneers in his face, “my party, my rules! I only have to invite the people I’m actually friends with – if Alex didn’t make the list, perhaps it’s because he and I have nothing to do with each other.”

“But you invited me!” Miles finds himself shouting all of a sudden. People turn their heads in surprise, having believed the New Kid to stay neutral out of fear of making anyone dislike him. “You invited me even though we don’t even know each other!”

Miles’s input encourages Matt further.

“Yeah, you prick,” Matt huffs, “and don’t you go around pretending that you have sixty friends in this place, because I know you don’t! You’ve invited absolutely everyone you know the name of, except from Alex. Why the fuck would you do that? Do you have a problem with him or what?”

Matt walks up to Luke again, flexing his shoulders along with every muscle in his upper-body. Nick and Jamie follow with protectively. 

“So what if I do have a problem with him?” Luke snorts, though he’s beginning to watch out for Matt’s backup slightly nervously. “It should be between Alex and I, shouldn’t it? Hey, Alex – what the fuck are you sending your bodyguards for? Did you lose the ability to speak for yourself in that car crash or what?”

Before Luke’s friends can laugh again, Matt seizes the son of a bitch by the collar of his shirt and flings him backwards against the wall.

“You better watch your fucking mouth!” Matt hollers menacingly. His anger is enough to make the veins in his throat pop out terrifyingly.

“Or what, Helders? What the fuck are you going to do to me?” Luke challenges him. “I’m just saying what everybody else is too afraid to say! No one wants Turner to be at the party. Everybody knows that he’s gone all weird and sad. Why would I invite such a killjoy to my party?”

Matt is frozen with resentment. Everybody seems to be holding their breaths now, looking over at Alex worriedly, awaiting his reaction. But Alex’s expression doesn’t change one bit. When Luke’s words fail to get to him, it appears to be the attention surrounding him now that makes him uncomfortable. 

“You slimy wanker!” Matt finally responds, raising his fist in the air. “I’m going to make you eat your own words-“

“Matt, no – stop it!”

Alex springs into action and seizes his friend’s arm, rendering him unable to punch Luke. Alex holds on to him stubbornly, even when Luke and his friends burst out laughing at what they see.

“Alex, I’m not going to let him talk about you that way!” Matt hisses in between clenched teeth.

“I don’t give a shit, okay?” Alex persists, ignoring the fact that Luke’s group is hooting and ridiculing him now. “It’s just a stupid party, Matt, you know I don’t care about it. Just let it go.”

“Yeah, Helders, it’s just a stupid party,” Luke sniggers, imitating Alex’s voice, “what’s the matter, Turner? You’re afraid to go where people might actually have a good time?”

“Shut your fucking mouth!” Matt roars in unison with Jamie behind him.

“You fucking poodle!” Nick adds furiously. “Matt, if you don’t punch that bastard, I will!”

“No!” Alex interrupts them, once again. “Just – ignore what he says, alright?”

The pleading, anxious look in Alex’s eyes is enough to force Matt to lower his fist, reluctantly. No matter how badly he wants to break the sucker’s nose, he won’t do it against Alex’s will.

“Aw, you’re disappointing me now, Turner!” Luke mocks him. He’s braver now that Matt is finally letting go of him. “I thought you had more spirit than that. Do you really not care what anyone says behind your back? Have you lost your pride? Do you not even care that I’ve stolen your girlfriend?”

Apparently, Taylor is no longer with Dennis. She has been laughing with Luke the whole time and now she remains cool, allowing Luke to wrap his arm around her shoulders. She’s staring straight at Alex with a cold expression on her face, but everyone knows that it’s an act and that Luke is making a fool out of himself. She would ditch Luke and run straight back to Alex if he asked her to. But Alex doesn’t. He simply turns his back on them and walks away from the crowd, slowly.

“That’s what I thought – you pussy!” Luke yells at him, laughing manically. “Run back home to your Mama, why don’t you, Turner? Oh wait, you can’t, can you?”

That does it. Since Matt is stalling, Miles decides that he’s had it with this prick. He can’t stand idly by and let him verbally abuse Alex like this any longer.

“Hey Luke!” Miles shouts, forcing him and everyone else to look. “Why don’t you suck on this?”

Before anyone can prepare themselves, Miles has leapt forward and delivered a violent punch straight to the other’s jaw. Luke cries from either pain or surprise and Miles hollers furiously, as though he’s trying to scare the rest of them off, discouraging them from meddling in.

It doesn’t quite work like that. As Miles has managed to bring Luke down to his knees and is preparing to throw a second punch at him, Luke’s lackeys jump to his defense, hurdling upon Miles, attacking him, grasping at his limbs in order to try and bring him down. Miles produces a small yelp, a mixture between a whimper and a rebellious outcry as he feels a fist colliding with his cheek and someone else yanking at his hair. He’s utterly helpless until, mercifully, Matt, Jamie and Nick decide to take action after all. Even though they manage to free him fairly quickly, a chain reaction has been triggered, provoking everyone involved to fight madly with their bare hands, whether they are using their fists or are scratching the enemy bloody by clawing at them. They tussle and wrestle each other like wild, feral cats, leaving Taylor to scream in panic and run away in order to save herself, and leaving Alex to stop dead, watching it all happen with horror from the side-line, unable to do or say anything to make any of them get off each other.

 

*

 

In the end, Miles is ratted out to the head teacher as Luke and his friends all report that he was the one to start the fight and even get a few witnesses in the hallway to support their statement. However, even though Miles is facing an hour’s detention at the end of the day, which will be followed up by five more in the week to come, he has no regrets. He believes himself to have made a clear statement after today. First of all, that he is no longer the New Kid who is too afraid to piss anyone off to open his mouth. Secondly, that nobody – and he means nobody – gets away with abusing Alex like that. Not on his watch.

Miles is feeling better and better with himself for having stood up to those bastards as the day goes on. He even receives a few nods and a few slaps to his shoulder from people who have heard about what happened and approve of his actions. In addition, he’s now sporting a proud, swollen bruise on his cheek, which only seems to get larger and nastier every hour. He doesn’t care. It’s his proof of action. His evidence that he will do anything to defend Alex.

“I’ll give you that, Kane,” Matt tells him in the restroom, where they’ve all gone to clean themselves up after the fight, “I had no idea you were so quick on your feet.”

“Yeah, no one saw that punch coming,” Nick laughs appraisingly, “including Luke. That vile bugger.” 

“You didn’t break your hand, did you?” Jamie mocks him slightly, though the banter is amicable as ever. “I noticed that your punching technique is a little rusty, is all.”

“Trust me, Cookie,” Miles laughs cockily, feeling uplifted by everyone’s praises, “I would sooner break that buffoon’s jaw than my own hand.”

Miles rubs at his swollen cheek with a wet towel. None of their injuries are too bad; Matt has got a busted lip, Nick a few scratches above his eye. Jamie is completely fine and does only need to use some water in order to comb his scruffy hair. Perhaps this is what keeps them bubbly and celebratory; the fact that they all came out of the fight feeling proud and mighty.

The only one who isn’t laughing is Alex. He’s standing silently behind them, watching as they congratulate each other once again. Miles is so high on adrenaline, he forgets that Alex has received some awful wounds of a much worse kind than any of them; the kind of wound that won’t swell down after a splash of cold water and a plaster. What Luke said to him earlier was emotional rather than physical abuse and for that reason, he won’t be getting over this episode as easily as they will.

“Hey Alex,” Matt laughs after some time, looking at Alex through the mirror, acting like he’s almost forgotten about his presence, “don’t you feel lucky to have friends who are ready to fight for your honour?”

Alex remains silent for a bit. Slowly, Miles feels the grin faltering on his own lips. Suddenly, the atmosphere has changed. 

“Al, what’s wrong?” He hears himself saying. He can’t help but to think that Alex is being slightly ungrateful by sulking like that. Miles and the others could not have avenged him any better than they did. “Are you okay, mate?”

Alex looks up. The two of them are not used to calling each other ‘mate’, not even when they are acting butch in front of their friends. The word feels like an insult coming out of Miles’s own mouth.

“I’m fine,” Alex huffs with a twinge of disgust in his voice. The others look over at him in surprise.

“Alex.” Jamie utters his name almost accusingly, indicating that he’s being rude, but Alex doesn’t apologise.

“What?” He snaps. “I told you guys to just leave it alone, didn’t I? I didn’t ask you to start a fight for me.”

“Alex,” Miles says firmly, turning around to give him a serious look, “you heard what that prick was saying about you!”

“I did, and thanks to you guys, Luke won’t stop harassing me any time soon!”

“Oh come on, Alex!” Matt exclaims. “We had to stand up for you, man.”

“No,” Alex tells him angrily, “what you did was spurring him on. You basically made it even funnier for Luke to hate on me. So if that’s what you call standing up for me, I don’t need it!”

Unwilling to listen to anything his friends have to say, Alex walks out of the restroom and slams the door behind him. Miles’s mouth falls open in astonishment. He drops the towel he’s been cleansing his cheek with and is about to run after him when Nick holds up a hand, stopping him on the spot.

“No,” he tells Miles casually, “I think he needs some time on his own. Enough drama for one day, eh?”

But Miles is feeling downright awful. What was intended as offering Alex a helping hand has now become the complete opposite and only now does Miles see his own mistake. He has been so busy seeking glory, blinded by the admiration he’s now received by spectators in the hallway. He has managed to make everything about himself, even though his battle wounds are hardly worth fussing over.

Miles’s swollen cheek has now stolen the attention away from Alex’s broken heart.

 

*

 

Alex isn’t able to avoid his friends for long, seeing as he’s practically moved in with Matt and his family. They all meet up with him again at the end of the day, when they’ve all finished their last classes. Miles and the lads find Alex sat by the trees outside, looking small and lost on his own. Apparently, people have stopped approaching him unless Matt and the others are with him. Even Andy Nicholson seems to struggle to keep a conversation going with him, and the notion of letdown is pissing Miles off all over again.

“Alright, Alex?” Matt nods coolly, walking over to the fifth member of the group slowly. They’ve all decided to appease him if they can, as they hope to avoid triggering another one of Alex’s mood swings. Matt sits down next to him, calmly, and Alex allows it.

“Alright,” Alex mutters, looking up at the rest of the group with vacant eyes. He looks so sad and timid; like a mole who’s wanting to burrow his way under-ground, never wanting to have to face people ever again.

If either one of them had felt like blaming Alex for his anger earlier, they’ve certainly all let go of their bitterness now. Now it’s just about making Alex feel better again.

“You ready to get out of here, man?” Jamie smirks, hoping that Alex will be ready to rejoin them.

“Yeah,” Alex sighs quietly, “I guess.”

“Come on,” Nick says, clasping Alex’s shoulder, “let’s go home.”

“Kane,” Matt says, “don’t you have detention?”

“Yeah,” Miles drawls, secretly wondering what would come his way if he ditched and went home instead, “in about ten minutes time, I do.”

“Taking one for the team, I see,” Nick laughs, “I like that. Give them hell, mate.”

“Fuck off,” Miles grins. “You count yourselves lucky that I agreed to take all the blame.”

“You’re a star, Kane,” Jamie joins in, sniggering, “a bloody hero!”

Once more, Alex is the only one not laughing.

“Alex,” Miles speaks instinctively, seeing as they’re all about to go, “can I talk to you for a minute? Inside, I mean.”

Alex looks over at him dully. He hesitates.

“Go talk to him,” Matt encourages, pushing Alex forwards and closer towards Miles, “if anyone needs to kiss and make up, it’s you two.”

Alex doesn’t seem to appreciate the laughter that follows with Matt’s joke.

“We’ll wait for you out here,” Jamie tells him, “and Kane – have fun with the head teacher!”

 

*

 

“You’re mad at me,” Miles starts as soon as he’s dragged Alex with him down the hallway, where no one is around to hear them talk. Now Alex is leaning against the wall subtly, with his arms crossed over his chest and his gaze turned away from Miles.

“I’m mad at all four of you,” Alex mutters in a lowered voice, making Miles believe that he’s holding back, or at least trying to.

“But you’re particularly mad at me,” Miles points out to him, because it appears to be the truth. “Why? Is it because I started the fight?”

Miles reaches out to touch Alex’s arm, but the other steps away from him.

“You knew I didn’t want the attention,” Alex bites, sounding more upset than angry. “It was me he was insulting, not you. But you and Matt practically challenged him to say more nasty things about me, just so you would have a valid reason to throw a punch at him.”

“Alex!” Miles gasps. “That’s not true. That’s not what we were trying to do at all!”

“But it felt that way,” Alex remarks, “and guess what? You and Matt may think the fight is over now, but I’ve had people laughing behind my back all day. I’m the one who’s having to deal with the consequences, not you. People now think I’m a pushover who needs my friends to look out for me, even though I never asked you guys to fight my battles.”

Alex’s eyes are glowing and he’s looking more alive than he has in a long time. Even though they’re in the middle of an argument, there is a passion and a fire which has turned him vibrant and fervent. He’s suddenly more beautiful than ever, and though Miles doesn’t want Alex to hate him, he’d rather see him like this – fuming, shouting, standing up for himself – instead of being that sorrowful, secluded shadow of himself that he’s become.

“You’re right, Alex,” Miles tells him, “you don’t need others to fight your battles. You can stand up for yourself. So why didn’t you?”

“What?”

“Why didn’t you stand up to Luke on your own?” Miles is pressuring him now. “Why did we have to do it for you?”

Alex pulls an angry grimace at Miles’s claim.

“You don’t get to choose which battle is worth fighting on my behalf,” he snorts, “and people like Luke Pritchard are a waste of time and energy. I would have rather left him alone.”

“I know,” Miles says, “but Alex, you don’t need to act so bloody submissive all the time. You shouldn’t have to steer clear of someone who’s obviously trying to offend you. Taking up battles with pricks like Luke Pritchard is good. Demanding other people’s respect is a good thing.”

Alex falls silent. There is a look of indignation on his face. Miles shouldn’t have to teach him things that he already knows and it’s all beginning to feel slightly too personal. Like Miles is attacking everything that Alex has become.

“You don’t get it,” Alex declares. “I’m not the person I used to be, Miles.”

“I know you’re not. I can tell.” Miles steps forward in an attempt to touch him again, but Alex still refuses. “Alex, listen, you can become that person again. The person I admired so much when I first met you. It wasn’t just that you were happy and sparkling. You were so strong. Everybody could see that. If you don’t learn how to protect yourself again, people are going to take advantage of you. And I don’t want anyone to hurt you.”

Alex’s eyes are glistening with unshed tears, but once again, he refuses to give in.

“You’re wrong,” he tells Miles stubbornly, “I can never become that person again, don’t you get it? Everything has changed now. I’ve changed. And if you don’t like the person I am anymore-“ 

“Alex, come on,” Miles interrupts, “there’s nothing wrong with me trying to give you a little nudge in the right direction. You don’t have to take offense…”

“Well, that’s easy for you to say,” Alex taunts him, “but tell you what, Miles, I’m not the only one of us who’s changed.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“You never used to force me into situations I’m not comfortable with. You never used to make me feel bad about myself. But now, all you do is remind me that I’ve become weak and inadequate…”

“Alex, please,” Miles begs, “you know that’s not true.”

“You used my weakness to promote yourself today,” Alex attacks him further, “I’m the one who got hurt, but you came out looking like a hero, didn’t you, Miles?”

“God damn it, Alex, listen to yourself!” Miles scolds. “The least you could do is act a little grateful…”

“Even now, you don’t like it when I speak my mind,” Alex huffs. “You’re acting so sure about everything these days, Miles. You never imagine for one second that you might be wrong about some things.”

Miles pauses. He’s surprised that Alex has actually decided to take a swing at him like this, after everything he’s done in order to be there for him.

“What’s wrong, Alex?” He snaps. “Don’t you like the fact that I’m more confident now? Would you have liked me to stay awkward and nervous, like the first day you met me? Don’t you like it now that I’ve got other friends than you?”

Miles eyes are harder than he would have liked them to be, but it’s too late. He’s already managed to push Alex away, forgetting the obvious fact that if it hadn’t been for Alex to begin with, he wouldn’t even have been introduced to any of the people he’s friends with to this day. 

“At least the old Miles didn’t care about impressing people. Or about the number of friends he had,” Alex grunts dejectedly, “forget it – I’m done having this discussion.”

“Yeah? Well, so am I!”

Before Alex can walk out on him, Miles turns around and abandons the hallway, scared out of his mind that if he stays just a minute longer, Alex will be able to detect the hurt in his eyes; the hurt that must be gushing and bleeding out of every pore by this point. What hurts the most is the realisation that, though he doesn’t like to be obvious about it, Miles has never actually wanted to change a single thing about Alex. Alex is still his sweetest daydream, his image of perfection. Alex’s love is still everything he’s pining for.

 

*

 

A few days later, Alex doesn’t show up for class and this is something which has Miles, Jamie and Nick worrying instantly; Matt decides to call them together as soon as he gets the chance.

“Something’s happened,” Matt announces solemnly and consequently, he has Miles fearing the worst.

“Is Alex alright?” He utters all panic-stricken and apprehensive, remembering his own mother’s little speech about people in mourning, and their tendency to want to hurt themselves. “Where is he?”

“Relax, Kane,” Matt groans exhaustedly, making the others wonder what he’s had to deal with at home, “he’s fine, he’s back at my house. My Mum’s told him to take some time off to – think about things.”

“What things?” Nick interrogates. “He’s not quitting school, is he?”

“No – no, not exactly. But something else might be happening.” Matt coughs. “Last night, we received a phone call from a lady wanting to know of Alex’s whereabouts. She claimed to be related to him, even though my Mum didn’t remember her from David’s funeral. However, my parents got Alex to answer the phone and apparently, it turns out that it was his Auntie Ruth getting in touch with him. You know – the woman with the awful sons, Alex’s cousins.”

Miles looks around him in time to observe the surprise on Jamie and Nick’s faces.

“Why the fuck would that woman get in touch with him?” Jamie ponders out loud. “I mean, aren’t they supposed to hate each other? Hasn’t she always been kind of nasty to Alex and his parents?”

“And why the fuck would she wait all this time if she wanted to check up on him?” Nick grunts. “The accident was, what – over two months ago? Why does she even pretend to care, I wonder.”

“That’s the thing,” Matt says with a shake of his head, “she wasn’t just calling to check up on him. She barely even asked him how he was holding up.” Matt snorts. “What a bitch. Nah, she was calling because she wanted something from him.”

“Wanted something?” Miles repeats incredulously. “What can she possibly think that Alex will be able to give her? His parents’ savings?”

Jamie chuckles at that, then turns serious. None of it is funny after all.

“It gets even crazier than that,” Matt tells him, clenching his fists unintentionally, “yeah, see – she wants the house.”

“What?” Nick groans with disgust. “The house? The Turners’ house?”

“Is she bloody joking?” Miles cries. “She doesn’t show up to the funeral, but she calls Alex ten weeks later to ask for his dead parents’ house?”

“Nah, come on, man,” Jamie bursts out, “surely no one’s that horrible.”

“Oh, but she is,” Matt continues, “and the worst part is – she thought she could make a deal with Alex, too. She actually thought she was in a position to bargain with him!”

“A deal? What kind of deal?”

“If she gets the house,” Matt pauses for dramatic effect, “she will let Alex move back in, let him have his old room back. She said she would even help him pay for his tuition fees if he goes to university when he’s eighteen. But more importantly; if she gets to move into the house with her three douchebag sons, she has agreed to become Alex’s new guardian.”

Miles tenses instantly. The look on Matt’s face is so stern, so grave, surely he isn’t pulling a prank on them right now? If he was, it wouldn’t be very funny.

“No,” Miles breathes, not knowing what else to say, “no, that’s not possible. Is it?”

“But I thought he had already moved in with you and your folks?” Jamie furrows his brow. “I thought your parents were adopting him.”

“So did I,” Matt says quietly. His eyes have darkened and adapted a rather blank look. Miles recognises it to be a look of disappointment. 

“But,” Nick butts in, “surely Alex isn’t really considering her offer? I mean, why the fuck would he? I don’t imagine he’s dying to move in with her and her spoiled brats.”

“Yeah, man,” Miles agrees, “I’m sure he’s going to turn her down soon enough.”

“Well,” Matt sighs deeply, “I have a horrible feeling that he won’t.”

 

*

 

That night, Miles has just stepped out of the shower when he hears noises downstairs. Apparently, the doorbell has been ringing and he can now hear his Mum answering the door. As he sneaks into his bedroom with a towel wrapped around his waist, he hears voices approaching as someone is ascending the stairs.

“I’m really sorry to drop by unannounced, Mrs Kane – are you sure he’s alright with seeing me?”

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous, darling, you can drop by any time you want, you know that, don’t you? Besides, our Miles is always happy to see you.”

Fuck.

Miles drops his towel and reaches for the only pair of trousers he can see from where he’s standing, realising that there is no time to worry about going commando. He only remembers last second that his fly is open, and he ends up biting his lip in a silenced scream when one of his pubes gets caught in the zip. There’s no time to fix it. Miles searches madly for a clean t-shirt to wear, but it’s too late. His mother is already knocking on his door.

“Miles, darling?” She hums, pressing down the door handle before he’s given a chance to stop her. “Alex is here to see you – isn’t that lovely?”

“Mum, wait, I’m not decent!” Miles hisses desperately, but to no avail. Either she doesn’t hear him or she doesn’t care about his mortification.

“Right this way, love,” Pauline tells Alex as she pushes the door open, leaving Miles to stop dead in front of them, frozen with embarrassment and half-naked – looking up at them like a deer in the headlights, “Miles, darling, did you remember to hang your wet towel to dry? Excuse my son, Alex, I told him to shower before bed.”

“Mum, for crying out loud,” Miles snaps, “yes, the towel is on the radiator!”

“Good, good – I’ll collect your dirty laundry in the morning,” his Mum humiliates him further, “now, I’ll leave you boys to it. Go ahead, Alex, love, don’t be shy. You can step inside.”

Pauline pushes the hesitant lad into Miles’s room, gently, before closing the door behind him. Alex looks up at Miles, matching his level of mortification perfectly. His expression is troubled by regret, his eyes big with surprise. It seems that none of them knows how to react.

“I – I’m sorry,” Alex then mutters, looking utterly out of place, “I didn’t realise… I can come back later if you…”

He pauses slightly as he doesn’t know what to say. He’s trying hard to divert his gaze and to not stare at Miles’s naked chest.

“No – no, that’s okay,” Miles sighs awkwardly, “I mean, obviously I didn’t expect any visitors, but…” He clears his throat painfully. “But it’s okay. I mean, have a seat.”

Miles gestures towards his bed.

“Are you sure?” Alex wraps his arms around himself, making himself look smaller. “I don’t mean to intrude.”

“Of course I’m sure,” Miles forces a self-conscious chuckle, “I just didn’t expect – I mean, right now, out of all people, I didn’t expect you to show up.”

Alex hangs his head for a moment. “I know,” he whispers.

“I mean, I figured you wouldn’t want to see me,” Miles elaborates. “Not anytime soon. I thought – I thought you’d be furious with me.”

“Miles, I’ve come to apologise,” Alex retorts, scratching at his neck reluctantly. “I never meant for us to fall out. Not like that. I’ve come to say that I’m really sorry. That, and Matt is having his grandparents over. I didn’t want to get in the way of him and his family. But first of all, I’m here to say sorry.”

Miles’s mouth falls open. He can’t help but to look Alex over and to study him closer. His uneasy posture and the biting of his lip is giving him away; Alex’s eyes are hidden behind his soft fringe and he looks shy as a small infant. He’s nervous. He’s scared that Miles is going to reject him, or tell him to go away. But Miles has forgiven him even before he came, hasn’t he?

“Oh,” Miles breathes. “Well, I – eh, why don’t you have a seat? I, uhm, should really put a shirt on or something.”

Miles catches Alex looking him over curiously, eyes glancing at abdominal muscles and forbidden chest hairs, all something which makes him apologise for walking in on him again.

“I really should have texted first,” Alex utters, blushing with shame. Perhaps the shame is about him showing up without an invitation, or perhaps it’s about him being unable to look away and give Miles the privacy that he deserves.

“Don’t worry about it,” Miles tells him sincerely, “I’m just glad that we can talk about this. Now, please sit down. I’ll be right with you.”

Miles dives into his wardrobe in search for a clean shirt whilst Alex makes himself comfortable on top of his bed. They are both silent for a moment, until Miles pulls a green t-shirt over his head and turns around to face his friend. Alex looks so sweet, sitting with his legs crossed, his hands resting on his knee. He keeps his head down timidly, and all Miles is able to see is rich, brown hair, the cute shape of a straight, but slightly prominent nose, and thin lips. Alex’s cheeks are slightly hollowed and it looks like he’s biting the inside of each cheek.

Miles wishes he wouldn’t look so uncertain of himself. So humble. He moves over to sit down next to Alex, capable of looking him in the eye now that he’s less exposed.

“I’m glad you came,” Miles finally admits and it pleases him to see Alex relax slightly, “I’ve been thinking about – you know what – for days now. If you hadn’t come to apologise, I would have done it first thing tomorrow.”

Alex seems genuinely surprised. “No,” he says, “no, don’t be daft. You have nothing to apologise for. I was way out of order.”

“You were not.”

“Yes, I was. I was behaving like a tit. Blaming you for what others did to offend me.”

“I made it my business when it was not,” Miles acknowledges, “I see that now. I should have stayed out of it, but instead I made a scene. I didn’t even understand what it was about at first – all I could think about was how angry I was. I was so angry that I forgot to consider your feelings.”

“But, Miles, you stood up for me,” Alex counters, “you defended me, you started a fight for me, even though everyone knows how shy you are. And I was so ungrateful – I was horrible to you!”

“No, Alex, you were completely within your right. I made it about something that it wasn’t. You were right – I was trying to impress people. Not at first, but afterwards. I did enjoy the attention. I was so proud of myself for – for finally having the courage to speak up. But in the middle of that, I forgot how hurt you must have felt.”

Alex swallows a lump in his throat. Miles thinks he’s gone slightly pale.

“I know, but…” Alex furrows his brow and hesitates. “I get hurt so easily these days. I mean, it doesn’t take much… I guess I just have to learn how to control my emotions. I keep getting these bloody mood swings and it gets in the way of everything…”

“Alex, you can’t suppress feelings like that,” Miles tells him, “I mean, you’re mourning. And you will be for a long time. It’s only natural to get upset.”

“Yeah, but – I’m not supposed to take it out on my friends and, and people I care about.” Alex sighs. “I’m not supposed to punish others for the weight that’s on my shoulders. Especially not when they get out of their way to help me. All my teachers think that I’m punishing them with silence. Even Matt’s parents are getting fed up with my misery. They never mention it, but I know what they’re thinking. Everyone is just waiting for me to stop sulking, and I keep letting them down.”

“Alex, come on – grief isn’t just something you can shrug off like that. People know that. Nobody expects you to just smile and move on all of a sudden. Everyone knows that it’s going to take time. You can’t be blamed for what you’re going through, and what it’s doing to you.”

“I know you’re right, it’s just… I can’t believe I said those things to you. I don’t even know where it came from. I didn’t even mean it. It’s like I just said it to – to hurt you.” Alex looks up at him. The pained expression in his eyes has Miles’s mouth going instantly dry. “I don’t want to hurt you, Miles. I can’t hurt you, just ‘cause I’m hurting. It doesn’t work like that. You’ve done so much for me. You – mean so much to me. I don’t want to push you away.”

“Alex, you’ll never lose me over something like that,” Miles speaks in an intense voice, inching closer. “Come on – you know I don’t scare away that easily.”

“Still, I’m really sorry.” Alex holds his gaze and he’s speaking to Miles from the bottom of his heart. “I’m sorry for taking it out on you. And I’m sorry that you got hurt because of me.”

Alex reaches out so suddenly, Miles jumps when he feels Alex’s delicate fingers touching his cheek gingerly. Oh. He’s talking about the angry mark he’s been carrying for a few days now. He’d nearly forgotten about his bruised cheek.

“Alex…” Miles whispers as the touch lingers.

“I can’t believe those dirtbags punched you,” Alex sighs sadly, “is there anything I can do to make it up to you, Miles?”

Then Miles knows.

“Alex,” he whispers again. Then he seizes Alex’s arm and pulls him close before he’s able to think things through. Alex is too surprised to resist. Miles rearranges himself and wraps his arm around Alex’s shoulder, bringing him even closer than before. Then he closes the distance between them by planting a firm kiss on the other’s lips. Miles has never kissed anyone before, though he knows that Alex is more experienced. He doesn’t have a technique and he doesn’t know what to do with himself. At first, the kiss is slightly wrong and not nearly romantic enough. However, Miles soon learns to breathe through his nose and relax into it. He pecks at Alex’s lips, slowly, asking him to open up. Alex hesitates at first, so Miles parts his own lips, leading the way. He’s holding Alex so close, reveling in the other’s warmth when he begins to kiss him more wetly, more persistently. Miles sighs against Alex’s lips – then, little by little, Alex seems to melt into Miles’s embrace, finally letting it happen.

Alex parts his lips and lets Miles’s tongue slip inside. Miles gets overly excited; his hands are now feeling up Alex’s back, loving everything that they are able to explore. He pushes his tongue against Alex’s, tasting, testing, sensing for the first time. And it’s even more beautiful than he’s ever dreamed before. Every inch of Alex is sweet and welcoming. Suddenly, he can’t get enough. Alex has started caressing his bruised cheek once more, gasping slightly each time Miles’s lips move over his. Miles takes his pleasured noises as a permission for him to continue. Gently, yet determinedly, Miles presses his chest against Alex in an attempt to push him backwards until he’s lying down on the bed. However, as Miles adds extra pressure and readies himself to get on top of Alex, he feels a sudden resistance. Alex’s hand abandons his purple cheek and moves down to press against Miles’s chest, stopping him from coming any closer. The kiss is broken quickly after that.

“Miles…” Alex mutters apologetically. “I don’t know about this…”

Miles is panting eagerly, but he forces himself to pull back and to not encroach upon the other.

“I’m so sorry, Alex,” he gasps, “I thought – I thought I would be more smooth than that.”

“No – no, it was perfect,” Alex assures him, “you’re perfect.” At that, Alex breaks into a small smile. “In fact, I kinda loved it.”

Miles can’t help himself. He leans in once again, seizing Alex’s mouth with his own. Alex accepts his kiss once more, and when Miles snakes an arm around his waist, Alex responds by placing a hand on Miles’s shoulder. Not to push him away, but to steady himself. They kiss each other deeply and slightly sluggishly; Miles is hoping to make it last and does not want to rush things. He’s dreamed of this moment more often than he’d be willing to admit to anybody, and now he wants to make sure that he is able to remember everything about it; Alex’s scent and taste, his warmth and softness. Miles wonders how it’s even humanly possible to adore someone so powerfully and so wholly. Everything about Alex seems to draw him in and pull him closer, to the point when it physically pains him to break apart from him again. Alex appears to want him, too; Miles can feel the other calming down and relaxing his body peacefully. Alex has closed his eyes and is now breathing sweetly against Miles’s mouth, allowing Miles to take control of his first kiss and to test whatever makes him feel good. Alex knows what it’s like to not enjoy your first kiss, so he wants Miles to have a positive experience. Only when Miles tries to get on top of him again does Alex withdraw from Miles’s engulfing embrace.

“I’m sorry,” Alex wheezes, blushing as he is forced to break the kiss for a second time, “that was amazing, don’t get me wrong.” He offers Miles a nervous smile. “I just don’t know if I can, you know… commit to anything right now.”

Miles exhales and licks at his own lip, taking in how sticky it feels. 

“You – you liked it?” Is all he manages to say.

“Of course I did,” Alex assures him, “I loved it.”

“Because I don’t mean to be like Taylor,” Miles says before he can stop himself. “I mean – I don’t want to pressure you into things you don’t want to do.”

“You’re nothing like Taylor,” Alex grins, and as he smiles, his eyes are illuminated beautifully. “And I love that about you.”

Love?

“Are you sure?” Miles runs a hand through his hair, feeling flushed and slightly self-conscious. He realises that he hasn’t been rejected by Alex. Not as such, anyway. It’s not about him, but about something else. Yet, he can’t keep himself from wondering whether or not he’s played his cards right.

“I’m sure,” Alex tells him, inching suddenly closer. “Taylor used to make me feel trapped and cornered. She used to make me feel guilty for everything that I couldn’t… give her. You’re nothing like that, Miles. For one, you actually make me want to be near you.”

Alex leans in to then rest his head against Miles’s chest. Looking up at him slightly hesitantly, as though to ask for his permission, Alex then wraps his arms around Miles’s middle, cuddling himself against the other tightly. If there was any doubt in Miles’s mind before, it’s certainly vanished. Now he knows that Alex does feel safe around him. Stunned and pleased with Alex’s little gesture, Miles wraps an arm around the other’s shoulder, drawing him closer against his chest.

“See,” Alex whispers, “this is what I’ve wanted to do ever since I met you.”

“But you don’t want to kiss me?” Miles double-checks in his attempt to solve the puzzle.

Alex looks up at him worriedly. “No, I do,” he answers him with a hint of frustration in his voice, “I’m dying to kiss you back, it’s just… I don’t think I’m able to. I don’t think I’m ready. I want to be ready. Sometimes I feel like I can’t wait to, you know… be with you, Miles. But there are so many thoughts going through my head these days. There are things I can’t stop thinking about and it’s driving me insane…”

Alex is beginning to sound upset. Miles shushes him slightly by pulling him close again and lower his head down to press a kiss against his hair. He’s beginning to understand that Alex, perhaps, needs him as a friend rather than a lover at the moment. But Miles doesn’t mind, as long as he can tell that Alex needs him, full stop. Miles wants to swear to be there for him, in one way or another.

“It sounds to me like you need to blow some steam off,” Miles tells him in a soothing voice, “perhaps this is something we should talk about? Without Matt and the others, I mean.”

Alex shrugs slightly. “I don’t know,” he says reluctantly, “I don’t want to bore you with it all.”

“Alex, come on,” Miles presses on, “you know I wouldn’t be bored. It’s important to me, you know, knowing how you’re holding up. There’s nothing I want more than to help you if I can.”

“Thanks, Miles. It’s just…” Alex sighs and begins to caress Miles’s chest with his skinny fingers, through the shirt, and his touches are forcing Miles to bite his lip and close his eyes. God, the amount of self-control it’s taking Miles to keep himself from pinning Alex down against the mattress and kissing him all over… “I’m in a slightly awkward position,” Alex explains, interrupting Miles’s chain of thoughts, “I have to make a pretty huge decision, or at least, that’s what I’m telling people. Because I think I’ve already made up my mind. I just haven’t told anyone yet.”

Miles cocks an eyebrow. “A huge decision? Wait – is this about that aunt of yours? She offered to move into your parents’ house and become your guardian, right?”

“How do you know about that?” Alex asks with bafflement, tearing himself out of Miles’s arms.

“Matt told us earlier,” Miles admits, then cringes. Christ. Alex must think that the gang does nothing except talk about him behind his back whenever he isn’t there. “I’m sorry, it’s just – I don’t want to pretend like I don’t know.”

“No – no, that’s okay,” Alex mutters. “So you know what my aunt has offered me? What do you think I should do, Miles?” 

“Oh – oh, no, I don’t know if I feel comfortable giving you advice on something like this,” Miles coughs uncomfortably, “I mean, it’s not really about me, anyway. It’s about you, and what you want. Although…”

“What?”

“You said you’d already made up your mind, but that you haven’t told people yet. Does that mean that you’ve decided to move out of Matt’s house and accept your aunt’s offer?”

Alex turns his gaze away from Miles and shrugs, though the answer to Miles’s question seems obvious.

“I don’t know,” Alex groans, “I’m just – I’m just tired of being a burden to other people, you know? To Matt, to his parents… They’ve done so much for me already, I feel guilty that they have had to change their lives just to take me in.”

“Isn’t that what your aunt would have to do anyway, if she was to move in and become your guardian?”

“I know, but… At least she would get something out of it. Like the house. She’s always wanted to live in a bigger house than she does now.”

“But, Alex, the Helders don’t see you as a burden. You know that, don’t you? In fact, Matt was telling us that he would rather that you stayed with him and his family. He thinks you’re better off that way.”

“I know, that’s what he told me as well. But, Miles, don’t you get it? I have next to no family. All the family that I’ve had has somehow died on me, whereas Matt’s family seems to get bigger every day. And yeah, sure, Matt’s parents have told me that I can have Gary’s old room. You know, Matt’s older brother who’s moved out now. And it’s really kind of them. But what if this is my last chance of connecting with my remaining family members? I don’t – I don’t want to be the only Turner that’s left.”

Miles looks Alex over and he can detect the panic in his eyes. Alex knows what he’s got to do, but it doesn’t seem to be a decision that he’s fully confident in. 

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Miles sighs. “I mean, think about it. Perhaps there’s a reason why you haven’t been close with your aunt. Didn’t you tell me she was dreadful? And that her sons have been tormenting you all your life?”

“Yeah, but,” Alex has now adopted a look of innocence in his eyes, or perhaps naivety, “surely they wouldn’t offer to live with me if they all hated me.”

Miles is about to say something else, but he holds his tongue. He doesn’t want to be the kind of person who tells Alex what to do. And he’s already told him that this was his decision to make, after all. If Alex really wants to go through with this, Miles shouldn’t be the one to try and stop him, even if he wants to. 

“I just – I just hope you’re certain,” Miles retorts after a short while. He’s got a bad feeling brewing in the pit of his stomach, but he decides to ignore it. “I mean, I hope there’s something for you to gain in this arrangement, Alex, and not just everybody else.”

For the first time since they started talking about this, Alex looks up and smiles convincingly.

“Don’t you see, Miles, I have everything to gain if I do this.” Alex’s smile evolves into a subtle reddening of his cheeks. “If I’m able to move back into my parents’ house, you and I will be neighbours again. And that way, we’ll always be close.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading xx


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex moves back into his parents' old house along with his aunt and cousins. However, when Miles meets his new neighbours for the first time, he begins to fear that Alex has made a terrible mistake.
> 
> He must now try to talk some sense into Alex and get him to admit that things aren't right at home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bloody hell, this is a looong one!  
> I'm really sorry folks if these chapters are getting too lengthy. I thought about splitting this up into two chapters instead, but then decided against it, because I feel like it's all a series of important events, which are more meaningful when they are put together.  
> I also tried to shorten it down, but a lot of important things are happening now, so I couldn't really leave anything out.
> 
> Things are slowly getting darker and uglier, folks - beware! Xx

It’s been exactly four months since Alex moved back into his parents’ house along with his aunt, Ruth, and his three cousins, and he and the gang have all turned seventeen now. Their sweet sixteens are long over; Miles is well aware. Where he was once carefree and dreamy – romantic, even – he is now anxious. Just constantly anxious. Anxious and terrorised. 

Because something has started to terrorise not just him, but everything and everyone. 

The entire neighbourhood has changed. Park Lane is no longer a beautiful street filled with laughter and sunny afternoons. At least not to Miles. Park Lane is now a place of dread and alarm. Of watching over your shoulder and choosing your words carefully. A place of stormy clouds gathering and turning black over your head, without anyone noticing or understanding that everything is different and that, sadly, all good things must come to an end.

Miles did see the moving van pulling over and parking outside of number 13. He did see the middle-aged woman with her three sons stepping out of the smaller vehicle that followed after. He did get a good look at these people’s faces and he did notice the smug smile on the woman’s lips as she paused by the entrance in order to look up and admire the valued and to some, dear, residence that she had managed to conquer so effortlessly. (There was a look of pride in her eyes; the very shallow kind, which had Miles thinking that, in reality, this woman had never performed a single good deed to earn her this pride). However, Miles didn’t truly encounter any of his new neighbours until about a week later. 

This first encounter, though, would go on to imprint itself into Miles’s memory for years and years to come.

It was a Saturday morning. They had all just been off school for a week’s time, enjoying a short holiday, meaning that Miles hadn’t had a chance to talk to Alex since his aunt and cousins moved into Park Lane, and since Alex joined them, forced to separate from the Helders family in an emotional goodbye. Miles had been dying to ask him how he was doing, how he was feeling about his new living arrangement, what it was like to suddenly live with his distant, almost estranged family members whom Miles barely knew the names of, what it was like for him to be back in his childhood home, without his parents there – and when Miles could come and visit him again… However, rather than bothering Alex with a million questions, Miles decided to be patient and to give the other some time to adjust.

Then Saturday morning happened. Miles woke up fairly early compared to normal. The urge to take a piss had him rolling out of bed and hurrying towards the toilet, even though he would have liked to snooze for another couple of minutes. Walking around in his room, wearing nothing but his underwear, Miles then spent a few moments in front of the mirror, making sure that his hair looked alright. He returned to the toilet and hovered above the sink. Humming some haphazard melody that he couldn’t seem to remember the name of, he splashed some cold water onto his face and wiped himself with a flannel. 

He stopped humming when he glanced out through his window, casually at first, and noticed the fact that the curtains opposite him were drawn open, allowing Miles to once again peek into Alex’s bedroom. Miles hesitated by the sink for only a second. Then he exited the toilet and crossed the floor, slowly, with a bashful smile on his face. Sure, it had been a long time since he and Alex had done this, but surely Alex wouldn’t feel uncomfortable? Not after everything that had happened between them. Besides, Miles was dying to talk to Alex again. To see his face. To know how he was doing. 

Nearing the window carefully, Miles tilted his head and searched for his friend. Alex wasn’t lying in his bed, it seemed. But the lights were on, so he had to be close. Then, after only a few moments, Miles could see the bathroom door opening. Miles held his breath in anticipation, wondering if, perhaps, spying on Alex as he walked out of the bathroom was too invasive after all. He could be naked. He could be wandering around, reminiscing what it felt like to be back in his parents’ house, completely lost in thought and not expecting to be making contact with Miles again this suddenly.

Unfortunately, Miles wasn’t given enough time to persuade himself to back off and to offer Alex some privacy. Not until it was too late. 

Miles’s eyes widened in wild confusion when a huge figure walked out from Alex’s bathroom, so abruptly, so fast that Miles had no time to dodge or to even look away. His hand had already been raised as he had readied himself to give Alex a cheeky wave as soon as he saw him, and now his hand froze mid-air as Miles felt himself immobilise completely. He was staring straight at a large male, so obscenely big and wide that Miles was left wondering how he could even fit through the bathroom door. This person was simply huge in every sense; his arms were massively muscular, his chest broad and his neck thick, though it wasn’t all muscle – he was so hefty that you could see his stomach rolls spilling over his underwear; his underwear that seemed to have stretched almost painfully in order to make ends meet, and which had several tears and holes in them, leaving his genitalia way too exposed for Miles’s liking. As this giant turned himself around, Miles further noticed a disgusting trail of acne all the way down his naked back, making his skin look pink and almost swollen, as if covered in boils and blisters. These spots and blemishes of his looked so ready to burst that they were practically leaking fluids, turning his skin greasy and oily. 

“Fucking hell!” Miles gasped, unable to help himself. He’d never before seen anything or anyone so repulsive. This wasn’t Alex – where the hell was Alex, and what was this ogre doing in his room?

As if he’d heard Miles’s little outburst, the sturdy stranger looked over his shoulder instinctively, sensing that he was being watched. Miles barely had time to gulp and to take a step backwards; the fellow that he’d been spying on caught him immediately and petrified him with his angry, mad stare, holding Miles captive in front of the window, unable to move or escape.

Alex’s bedroom window was then torn open.

“Oi!” He barked at Miles like a wild dog. “What the fuck are you staring at, you little wanker?”

He stuck his head out of the window and leaned further out, managing to squeeze his fat shoulder in between the window frames. Miles felt almost certain that he would be stuck in there. Shaking anxiously and falling speechless with mortification, Miles merely gasped and did what he should have done from the very beginning; he hid. He simply sat down on the floor and took cover underneath the windowsill, where he could no longer be seen by this mysterious impostor that didn’t belong inside Alex’s room at all.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He heard the giant shouting again. “Come back where I can see you, you fucking coward! You like to spy on me when I’m in my underwear, huh? I’ll fucking show you what happens to sissies like you! You bloody poof! Open your window!”

What? Miles had been pressing both hands against his ears, pretending not to hear a single word that was shouted at him. Did that lunatic really expect him to open his window and talk to him? No fucking chance. He wasn’t falling for that, not in a million years…

“Oi, you fucking heard what I said!” He heard him roaring again. “Open your window, you cunt, and face me if you dare! Are you a little bender? Is that why you won’t open your window? Are you a fucking tart?”

Oh shit – shit, shit, shit. When the fuck was he going to give up and leave Miles alone? If he didn’t stop yelling like a crazy person soon, Miles’s parents – along with the entire neighbourhood – were going to fucking hear him. But Miles couldn’t just open the window and talk some sense into him, it wasn’t that simple. He caught Miles spying on him, for crying out loud. In his underwear. As he came out from the bathroom. Whilst Miles was only wearing his underwear, too. There was only so much male nudity that straight guys like him could put up with, and it seemed obvious that Miles had crossed the line and violated this bloke’s comfort zone.

“Last warning, you little piece of shit! If you don’t open your fucking window right now…”

He didn’t even finish his warning. Miles was still left to clatter his teeth in distress when, suddenly, from out of nowhere, he heard a loud crash which had him jumping in panic, believing that the end of the world had come, or at least the end of his world. This unexpected crash was followed by thousands of tiny shards and pieces of glass dancing and falling over Miles’s head, landing in his hair and covering his skin like harmful, sharpened snowflakes. It was only when Miles heard the sound of a small, yet substantial object landing by his feet and rolling across the floor that he understood what had happened.

His new neighbour had smashed his window in with a golf ball.

 

*

 

Miles was stood shoulder to shoulder in between his parents as his mum rang the doorbell to number 13.

“Mum, is this really necessary?” Miles complained worriedly, with his heart still hammering away inside his chest. “I really don’t want any trouble…”

“You bet your arse it’s necessary,” Pauline snapped, ringing the doorbell once again, furious to be kept waiting, “I have no clue what the deal is with Alex’s cousin, Miles, but he broke your sodding window, and he’s damn well paying for the damage!”

“But Mum, we haven’t even met either of them yet!”

“Listen to your mother, Miles,” his dad said, slapping his back, “we can’t have these new neighbours going around throwing golf balls at our house. This is not acceptable!”

“But Dad, they’re Alex’s family-“

Miles paused at the sound of a car pulling up behind them and parking in the driveway. They all spun around simultaneously, in time to see Alex’s aunt and new guardian, Ruth, stepping out of her car and looking over at them coldly, as though she had just caught a small group of burglars in trying to invade her property. Ruth was a short, curvy woman that somehow made herself seem bigger and much more intimidating than a middle-aged woman like her ought to be. Her hair was short and dark, though it was starting to turn grey at the roots. Her eyes were small and narrowed. Hard. Hostile, almost. There was an angry look on her face which had obviously been put there at the inconvenience that it was for her to now be dealing with a neighbouring family that she did not seem to care for whatsoever. 

“Is that my doorbell you’re ringing?” She spoke suddenly, stepping closer towards them. She seemed so certain of herself; she could have been a mouse walking up to an elephant and it would still be the other running away in fear. Miles noticed how her lips were thin and tightened – frowning dangerously.

Miles heard his dad clearing his throat carefully.

“I’m sorry, we were hoping to speak to a Ruth. Ruth Turner?”

This information didn’t seem to please the small woman in front of them. She narrowed her eyes even further and seemed to scowl candidly.

“That’s Ms Sharpe to you,” she snapped at him crossly, “I’m not a bloody Turner.”

“Right, forgive me – Ms Sharpe. It was just that we were hoping to have a word with you. We live next door to you, you see – in number 11. I’m sorry we haven’t been properly introduced yet. I’m Peter Kane and this is my wife, Pauline. My son here, Miles, is actually close friends with your nephew, Alex…”

“Get to the point, will you?” Ruth Sharpe cut him off brutally as she returned to her car in order to unload a couple of shopping bags. “As you can see, I’ve got my hands full. I’m busy.”

“Forgive me,” Miles’s dad stammered again, looking truly flushed and perplexed by this woman’s lack of feeling. Miles’s dad was a true Englishman and he wasn’t used to people rejecting his mannered, gentleman nature this quickly. “Here, allow me to help…”

“I’ve got it!” The woman basically barked at him, clutching on to her bags as though to protect her stuff from the eager hands of a stranger. “Just move aside, will you? You are blocking my front door.”

Miles’s dad stepped aside instantly, looking both awkward and uncomfortable. Miles could tell that he was genuinely scared of offending her. His mum, on the other hand, stood her ground, even when Ruth moved towards her slightly menacingly, swinging her shopping bags about her like a bulldozer. Even Miles had to jump out of her way when she appeared to ignore him completely and continued to approach. As she came closer, however, Miles discovered – to his horror, because in suburban England, this wasn’t something he was used to – that this eccentric woman wasn’t wearing a bra. She had put on a blue shirt that seemed to be slightly stained and creased, and not very clean. Her nipples were particularly visible underneath the thin fabric, and without the support of a bra, her breasts appeared to sag heavily, until the point when they were practically resting against her abdomen.

While Miles was busy cringing and trying to ignore his discovery, his mum remained calm and continued to block the woman’s front door stubbornly. 

“You’re not going anywhere until we’ve had a talk,” Pauline insisted bravely, holding her hand out in front of Ruth Sharpe’s face, “your son threw this into Miles’s bedroom, breaking his window. I want to have a word with him.”

Glaring irritably at the golf ball in Mrs Kane’s hand, Ruth Sharpe merely exhaled and shrug her shoulders. 

“Fine,” she sighed as though she couldn’t have cared less, “I guess I’ll have to show you the way in. But you are going to have to wait for five minutes, I need to unload my bags.”

 

*

 

Miles and his parents found themselves seated in the living room, where Miles recognised the Turners’ old furniture instantly; the family’s emerald green sofas, the dark, mahogany display cabinets containing David’s old wine glasses and Penny’s fancy dinner plates, the tall bookshelves displaying some of the couple’s favourite books, along with a few textbooks that were used in their classes – only, some of them seemed to be missing now. In fact, quite a few of the books seemed to have been taken out and removed. Miles frowned as he looked around the living room, taking in how changed it all was. Then he saw it. Where David and Penny Turner had once decorated their shelves and walls with pictures of their only son, together with pictures of friends and family, there were now either empty squares on the wall, or empty, dusty shelves. The only picture that was now ornamenting this sad and different room, was a large framed one that had been hung up on the wall above the TV – a picture of three ugly boys in their school uniforms, which seemed to have been taking at least ten years ago. Ruth’s sons.

“Where are the pictures of Alex? And David and Penny?” Miles whispered worriedly to his parents, while they were still left to themselves. “She’s taken them all down!”

“What?” His mum hissed with annoyance. She had been thinking about something else and didn’t pay much attention to her surroundings.

“There used to be a lot of pictures of Alex in this room,” Miles went on, remembering strongly how he had once admired a cute picture of a smiley, eight-year-old Alex, photographed with his classmates. Even Matt had been in the picture, Miles was pretty sure. “There were a lot of baby pictures, too. One where Penny is holding Alex in her arms. And one where David is letting him play in his car…”

“Miles, what are you on about?” His dad shushed him tensely. Apparently, he was still nervous that they would do or say anything to offend their incensed new neighbour. 

“I’m saying that she has removed everything with the Turners’ faces on it,” Miles complained persistently, “it’s like she’s been trying to make it look like she’s been living here all along. Like this is actually her home.”

“Quiet, Miles, this is not what we’re here to talk about,” his mum told him dejectedly, “now, what is taking that woman so long? I’m starting to think she’s avoiding us…”

Pauline jumped slightly when the door to the living room was opened in a swift movement and Ruth Sharpe entered the room without a warning. Miles and his parents all felt themselves tense and turn silent immediately. They all looked up at the short, plump woman that they were here to see. Though she had only lived in this house for a few days, it was clear that she had already marked her territory and that if they were expecting to have a sensible conversation with her, they were to follow her rules and allow her to be in charge.

“Sorry for the wait,” Ruth muttered grumpily as she walked over to take a seat in the chair opposite to them. Something in her tone had Miles knowing that she wasn’t sorry at all. “You came at an inconvenient time.”

“Your son broke Miles’s window at an inconvenient time, you mean,” Miles’s mum bit back, which only had Ruth grimacing even worse.

“Oh right – that’s what you’re here to talk about, isn’t it?” Ruth cleared her throat and dug a cigarette out from a pocket in her trousers. As she reached for a lighter on the table between them, Miles once again noticed her sagging breasts and he looked away from her instantly, worried that she might catch him staring. “So,” Ruth sighed as she lit her cigarette and took a drag, “you’re claiming that my son broke your window this morning.”

“Not claiming,” Miles’s mum corrected her, “we’re confirming that it happened. Look – I even brought the golf ball as evidence.”

Ignoring her interruption completely, Ruth blew out her fumes and went on: “My son doesn’t break people’s windows unless he has a reason to. And I wasn’t home, so I can’t possibly know how it all happened.”

Miles noticed that the woman’s teeth were all yellow and practically stained with tobacco. Her skin seemed slightly greasy, like the skin on her son’s blistered back, and though her hair was short, there was an indication that it was unwashed and unkempt. 

“In that case, I would like to speak with your son,” Pauline told her straight, “perhaps he can tell us what the hell he was thinking.”

For a moment, Miles had almost expected the woman to get furious and to kick them out of the house, refusing to even have this conversation. But instead, Ruth merely shrugged as though she couldn’t give a rat’s arse and bellowed from the top of her lungs, startling everyone:

“Boys! Get your arses down here!”

Miles’s dad jerked slightly, surprised at her outburst. Miles had always known for a fact that he hated being around loud women. Ruth continued to smoke her cigarette calmly, until a minute later, Miles could hear an overwhelmingly loud thumping of feet running down the stairs. The door to the living room was opened again and Miles felt his heart hammering away painfully with dread when they were joined by three young men, all of them larger and uglier than the other.

Miles looked up and recognised his tormentor from earlier – he was the biggest and heaviest of them all, it seemed, and he was now smiling tauntingly over at him, letting Miles know that he wasn’t sorry for what had happened earlier.

“These are my three sons, Terrence, Henry and Percival,” Ruth told them oddly formally, as though Miles and his parents had just been waiting to be introduced, “and my boys are usually the kindest among people. Mrs Kane, perhaps your son would be so kind as to point out which of my angels he fell out with?”

Miles felt too speechless to say anything. This wasn’t what he had expected. Even his mum seemed too stunned to react.

“Uh…” Miles drawled foolishly. Though he was staring straight at the biggest bloke, the one she had called Terrence, he didn’t have the guts to name him. Not when he was put on the spot like this.

“Does your son not speak?” Ruth huffed a moment later, and it sounded like she had to contain her own laughter. “Fine, I’ll ask them myself. At least I know that my sons have the guts to tell me the truth.” Ruth ashed her cigarette and looked over at her boys. “Come on, lads,” she told them, sounding like a coach for a football team, “let’s hear it. Who broke this kid’s window?”

This kid? Miles frowned; he felt pretty sure that she was trying to insult him now. He looked the three young men over carefully. He couldn’t believe the smugness on their faces, considering how hideous they were. Terrence appeared to be the oldest, as well as the fattest. The two others, on the other hand, were faring no better. The bloke stood in the middle, Henry she’d called him, was tall and muscular, though he had been given the unfortunate combination of a gigantic nose, paired with large ears, both in stark contrast to his tiny eyes, which didn’t seem to suit his rounded face at all. The third of them, Percival, was the shortest and probably the youngest, too. He was wearing glasses, had freckles and a large overbite; all traits which seemed to make it easy to identify him. On top of that, however, his hair was thinning impressively, considering his young age. He was wearing a red shirt that was way too small for him. As a result, his big belly was poking out from underneath the hem. It seemed that he had inherited his mother’s casual attitude towards clothing.

“It was me,” the oldest said suddenly, though with an unpleasant smile on his face, “I broke that crybaby’s window.”

Terrence looked directly over at Miles, cocking his eyebrows challengingly. 

“Excuse me?” Miles’s mum fumed, but Ruth ignored her again and smiled at her son.

“Good job, Terry, my dear,” Ruth spoke tranquilly, “thank you for telling us what happened. Funny how Mrs Kane’s son was so quick to tell on you to his parents, but seems to clam up as soon as we’re gathered to talk about it.”

Her boys started giggling at that. Miles’s face went red with embarrassment, but in the meantime, it appeared that his mum had had enough.

“Leave my Miles out of this!” Pauline thundered as she stood up from the sofa. “I can’t believe you’re not disciplining your son for what he did! He could have injured my boy, I hope you know. If that ball had landed in Miles’s face…”

Pauline faltered and was left flabbergasted when, unexpectedly, Terrence cut her off and took a step forward.

“I only broke his bloody window because I caught your bastard son spying on me!” He swore loudly, forcing Pauline to gasp. “I was in my bedroom, minding my own business. Then I catch this loser looking at me when I’m only in my underwear, like a fucking pervert!”

“A fucking gay pervert!” His younger brother, Henry, added with a snort. 

“Now, boys, let’s try and use a more civil tone…” Miles’s dad begged, though no one paid attention to him.

“No one spies on me in my underwear!” Terrence raged, gesturing madly with both his arms. “Let that be a warning to you, you little prick,” he said, pointing his fat finger in Miles’s direction, “I take no shit from gay little wankers like you. If I ever catch you spying on me again, I’ll throw something bigger than a fucking golf ball.”

Before Pauline could voice her outrage, Terrence and his brothers all turned around to leave the room in anger, acting like there was nothing left to discuss. 

“Well,” Ruth said coolly, doing nothing to stop her boys from leaving, “there you have your answer.”

Miles’s mum was so upset – her mouth was still hanging wide open in horror.

“Are you just going to let them talk to my son like that?” She cried. “You must tell them to apologise – immediately!”

“I have always taught my boys to speak their minds, they were brought up that way, and that’s what they’ve done now. I’m not going to discipline them when they haven’t broken any of my rules,” Ruth explained as though it was simple logic.

“So breaking other people’s windows and assaulting them verbally isn’t breaking one of your rules?” Miles’s dad suddenly had the courage to laugh sarcastically. “That’s insane! You can’t bring up your sons that way.”

“My son may have reacted aggressively,” Ruth told him from in between clenched teeth and her hard stare had him silenced at once, “but as he explained, he only reacted that way because he caught your son spying on him and invading his privacy. Is that something you’ve taught your son to do? Hm? Spying on people when they are left exposed?”

Ruth didn’t even seem upset. Rather, it appeared that she found the whole situation amusing. Especially because there was nothing that Miles’s folks could say to intimidate her. She had the upper hand in this debate.

“I – I wasn’t trying to spy on him!” Miles heard himself whimpering pathetically. “Please, you have to believe me – I would never do something like that. I just – I was just expecting to see Alex, is all. Not your son. I mean, after all, I was only looking because I know the room belongs to Alex.”

Miles felt himself hesitating. Where was Alex, by the way? He hadn’t come down along with his cousins when Ruth had shouted for them. 

Ruth raised her eyebrows and for the first time, she seemed genuinely surprised.

“You weren’t trying to spy on my son, but you were trying to spy on my nephew instead?” She asked him in a mocking tone, which had Miles blushing furiously. “How am I supposed to make sense of that? Were you hoping to catch Alex in his underwear instead of my son? Is that the kind of person you are?”

“Of course not!” Pauline shouted heatedly. “Our Miles is a good boy – how dare you!”

“I wasn’t trying to be a pervert or anything of the sort,” Miles burst out in distress, “I wasn’t spying, or lurking, or prying – and I certainly wasn’t hoping to see anyone half-naked if that’s what you think!” At this, Ruth pulled a face of disbelief. “I was just… looking out for Alex. You know, because I haven’t seen him for a few days. I thought he would be in his room.”

“The room isn’t his any longer,” Ruth spoke suddenly, catching Miles off guard. “I’ve given it to Terry, seeing as he’s the oldest. In other words, you’ve wasted your time.”

Miles’s mouth fell open.

“What?” He stammered. “You’ve given Alex’s room to your son? But – but it’s his! Alex has had it since he was small, he grew up in there…”

Ruth’s eyes were ice cold as she looked him over.

“I don’t see how it’s any of your business how I run this house, young man,” she snapped at him, “my nephew is a small and skinny boy, he doesn’t need to have the biggest bedroom in the house. Do you really think that it would be fair if my Terry, who is the largest, had to make himself comfortable in some tiny room where there isn’t enough space for all of his stuff?”

“I bet you’ve already given Alex the smallest room you could find,” Miles raised his voice before he could stop himself, “just like you’ve taken down all of the pictures of his parents! Where is Alex even? I want to see him – I need to speak with him!”

“I’m sorry, kid, but I don’t take orders in my own house,” Ruth told him off as her fingernails dug into the armrest of her chair, “you can’t see Alex, not today. I’ve told him to catch up on the homework he’s been neglecting, so he’ll be working for the rest of the day. I’ll be teaching my troubled nephew how to spend his time more sensibly – I suggest you teach your son the same thing, Mrs Kane.”

It seemed obvious that Pauline was about to hurl an insult back in Ruth Sharpe’s face, however, Miles’s dad stopped her by touching her shoulder and getting ready to leave.

“I think we’ve overstayed our visit here,” he told his wife gingerly, “perhaps we should go.”

“Perhaps that would be for the best,” Ruth taunted them all as she remained seated in her chair, without offering to follow them out.

“We are going to have the window replaced as soon as possible,” Pauline retorted as she pulled Miles up from the sofa and went straight for the door, “we’ll send you the bill when it’s all in place, Ms Sharpe.”

Miles’s mum was absolutely fuming as soon as the family made it back to their own house.

“Who does this woman think she is?” She thundered, threatening to smash something against the wall. “How dares she speak to us like that?”

“Calm yourself, Pauline, there’s no need to throw a fit. We don’t have to speak to that woman ever again.”

“She’s our blimey neighbour now, Peter!” She cried. “Do you think we can just ignore her? What if her crazy sons break more windows?”

“It won’t come to that,” he promised her, “surely, it won’t.”

“How crazy must she be, anyway, to name her sons like she has? Terry, Harry and Perry – they sound like they belong in a circus!”

“Mum,” Miles interrupted her, “she can’t just give Alex’s room away, can she? I mean – he’s lived in the house long before she has. She’s acting like she doesn’t even want him there.”

“I’m sorry, Miles, but there’s nothing we can do about that right now. Besides, I’m more concerned with her dreadful offspring. I want you to avoid those boys, Miles, do you hear me? I don’t want you to socialise with them whatsoever. Something about those boys isn’t right.”

Unbelievable as it was, it seemed that Miles was the only one worrying about Alex’s wellbeing in that house. From this first meeting with Ruth and her sons, he knew that something had gone wrong long before anyone saw it coming. Ruth was dominating, unfair – she didn’t seem to listen to anything that other people had to say. For this reason, Miles was convinced that he had to find a way to get to Alex. He had to talk with him. Even if his parents weren’t too concerned, Miles knew that he had to watch out for him, now more than ever – because Ruth certainly wasn’t going to.

 

*

 

It is now four months since Miles met Ruth Sharpe and her sons for the first time and as time has gone by, his concern for Alex has only increased.

It took Matt and the others slightly longer to see it. Alex continued to show up for school as usual. He and Miles would even walk to school together, laughing and talking, like the past six months hadn’t changed their lives completely. Alex would meet up with the gang every morning – he would smile and he would tell everyone that he was doing fine. And at first, a lot of his friends believed him.

That was before they realised that ever since his aunt and cousins moved in with him, Alex had begun to show up for things less regularly. Suddenly, he had started to find all kinds of excuses and reasons for not being able to spend time with people after school, for not being able to make it to parties anymore, for not being able to invite his friends over. He was beginning to act all withdrawn, like he wasn’t part of the group anymore.

Miles had found the courage to confront him about it a few weeks later, while he had gone with Alex to visit Penny’s bedside in the hospital. Of course, Miles had given Alex the peace that he needed first, seeing as Alex was always slightly emotional after visiting his mother and would need some time alone to gather his thoughts. Then, on their way home, though, Miles suddenly ventured:

“Al, I feel like I almost never see you anymore. Is everything okay at home?”

At first, Alex had given him a confused smile, as though he was taken aback by Miles’s question. However, Miles knew that Alex must have been aware that it was only a matter of time before someone brought it up. Miles further knew that Alex had heard about what had happened between Ruth and his parents, and about the argument that they had had. In fact, Miles could almost picture Ruth complaining about her ‘stupid neighbours’ to Alex since she knew of her nephew’s relationship to them.

“Of course,” Alex had told him, “everything is fine. Why are you asking, Miles?”

“Well… I’ve just noticed that you’ve been spending more and more time at home recently, studying or whatever it is that you’re doing. And I was just wondering – she does let you go out, right? I mean, if you wanted,” Miles said, scratching his neck, “if you wanted to go out, she would let you. Right?”

Something changed in Alex’s expression.

“What are you trying to say?” He asked him almost suspiciously. “I mean, it’s not like she’s holding me hostage.”

“Good, good,” Miles nodded awkwardly, “I didn’t think that, it’s just… I feel like we see less of you these days.”

Alex furrowed his brow and exhaled quietly. “Look,” he said, “I know what you mean. It’s just… Ruth doesn’t want me to fall behind in class. She says that unless I pull myself together, I’ll never be able to go to university. She, uh, says that my lifestyle has been kind of… reckless.”

“Reckless?” Miles repeated. “No way! What does she even mean by that?”

Alex shrugged. “I don’t know. I think she thinks that I’ve been partying too much. Drinking too much.”

“That’s bullshit,” Miles snorted. “I mean, you don’t party or drink any more than the rest of us do. Is she a devout Christian or something?”

Alex giggled slightly at that. “It’s not so much that. She just… has certain beliefs. About what’s right and what’s wrong. I’m just trying to follow her rules, I mean – I really want this to work between me and them.”

“What about your cousins?” Miles pressed on. “They’re not giving you a hard time, are they?”

“They tend to leave me alone as long as I keep my head down,” Alex said truthfully. “But I’ll admit, Terry does have a temper.”

“Alex,” Miles said worriedly, “are you sure you really want to live your life like that? Walking on eggshells, trying not to offend these people?”

“Look, Miles – I know they were rude to you and your parents when you first met them. I’m really sorry about that. But they’re not always like that. You caught them on a bad day, is all. My Auntie Ruth had just found out that the moving company lost one of her boxes and she had had a fight with them over the phone…”

“So she’s not always like that?” Miles questioned with disbelief. “She’s not always so rude and resentful?”

“No, of course she isn’t. Miles, I’m sorry, okay? I don’t know what she said to you, but I think you’ve got the wrong impression. Your parents got the check, I hope? You know, for the new window. She’s sorry for what happened, I know she is.”

“Yeah, we got the money alright,” Miles huffed, “but we almost thought we wouldn’t. My mum was ready to drag Ruth to court. She was really pissed off with her.” Miles paused and noticed the panicked look on Alex’s face. “Alex – you didn’t… You didn’t write that check for her, did you?”

“Don’t be silly,” Alex said with a shake of his head, but something in his voice failed to convince Miles. “Anyway, we don’t have to keep talking about this, do we? I promise you, it’s not as bad as it may seem.”

“So you really don’t mind giving up your bedroom so that Terry can steal it from you?” Miles tested him. “And you don’t mind the fact that she’s been removing all of the pictures of you and your parents?”

“Listen, it makes sense,” Alex said with a shrug of his shoulders, “Ruth explained to me that Terry needed more space…”

“Yeah, but Alex, I was waiting for us to be neighbours again,” Miles intervened, “you know, window to window like we used to be…”

“And Ruth only removed the pictures because they didn’t make her feel at home,” Alex went on, ignoring him, “it’s not like she burned them or anything. I keep them in a box in my new room.”

“Are you not even allowed to hang them up in your own room?” Miles frowned.

“Let it go,” Alex told him kindly, touching Miles’s shoulder. Not to give him a warning, but to assure him that there was no cause for emergency. “You don’t need to worry about me – but I guess it’s kind of sweet that you do.”

Alex smiled at him, and Miles was suddenly so blinded, so mesmerised by the light in his eyes and the shape of his lips that he forgot just how dangerous it was to trust someone who was a good liar to be fine.

 

*

 

Four months later, and Miles is still struggling to get any admissions out of Alex, and to make sense of everything. The only difference now is that Miles is no longer alone in suspecting that something is off and that Ruth Sharpe and her sons aren’t as innocently misunderstood as Alex has made them out to be.

“She must be giving him curfews,” Matt says one day, as Miles, Jamie and Nick have gathered in the Helders’ house after school. They had asked Alex if he wanted to join, but he explained that he had promised his aunt to tidy up in the kitchen, as part of his weekly chores. “He barely leaves the house anymore, unless it’s to go to school. I don’t get it.”

“It’s not like him at all,” Nick agrees pensively, “he was always the fun one. Makes me think that she keeps him on a short leash. She seems like such a controlling bitch.”

“You’ve noticed, too?” Miles joins in, eager to share his concerns with someone. “Have you talked to her?”

“Me and Jamie went by their house a few weeks ago, rang the doorbell,” Nick explains, “she opens the door, eyeing us like a madwoman. We ask to see Alex as politely as we fucking can, but she starts shooing us away like fucking pigeons.”

“At least if you were pigeons, you could have shat all over her car,” Matt adds darkly.

“She keeps saying that Alex is working, or that he isn’t home,” Jamie huffs, “but where the fuck would he be if he wasn’t home? Nobody has seen him anywhere, since… forever, I guess. Plus, he would let us know if he was out and about.”

“She’s definitely telling him what he can or cannot do,” Miles concludes. “Tell you what, she isn’t treating her own sons in the same shitty way. She lets them do whatever the fuck they want. I bet Alex is the only one she forces to do chores.”

“I fucking hate those sons of hers,” Matt chimes in, crossing his arms angrily, “last time I met them on the street, the big, fat one spat at my feet and tried to push me out of the way. Just because the sidewalk wasn’t wide enough for the both of us…”

“Which one?” Miles asks with sudden interest. “Terry?”

“The oldest one, yeah,” Matt snorts, “God, he’s the worst. How old is he? 22? And he’s still living at home with his mum, doesn’t even work a job. Pathetic.”

“She keeps going on about sending Alex off to uni,” Nick then says, “it’s like she can’t wait to get rid of him. Even though it’s ten times more his home than hers.”

“We have to do something,” Jamie then decides, slapping his own thighs eagerly, “we have to make Alex realise that he shouldn’t be following her stupid rules.”

“We should try and get him out of the bloody house,” Matt nods, “he needs a break from all the work that she’s making him do. We should take him to a party or summat.”

“A party?” Nick repeats disbelievingly. “Matt, she would never allow him to go. You know that.”

“Well, then he’s not going to ask her for her permission, is he?” Matt insists. “We will sneak him out of his room in the middle of the night, if we have to.”

Miles furrows his brow, feeling a sense of skepticism that he can’t ignore.

“And how are we going to persuade Alex to go along with our plan?” He points out. “Alex would probably refuse, or say it’s too risky. I can’t even get him to come over to my house, even though we live next door to each other.”

“I don’t know,” Matt admits, sighing, “but I have a feeling that if anyone should manage to talk some sense into him, it’s you, Kane.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, why not?” Nick gives him a serious look. “You and Alex are close, aren’t you? There’s a bigger chance of him listening to you than anyone else.”

“I don’t know, you guys,” Miles hesitates, biting his lip.

“Come on, Kane,” Jamie pleads, throwing a pillow in Miles’s direction. “At least try to persuade him. Do your best. For Alex.”

“For Alex,” Matt repeats, and suddenly, they are all acting as though they are willing to go through hell if it means helping out a friend.

Miles sighs. They all seem to be forgetting that, if Alex were to get caught, they are not exactly doing him any favours after all.

 

*

 

It takes the gang a couple of days to plan the whole thing. Then, when they feel like they know what they are doing, the boys order Miles to talk to Alex and tell him about their idea. Needless to say, Miles feels nervous when he takes Alex aside on their way to an English class, requesting that they speak privately for a moment.

“What’s up?” Alex asks Miles almost cautiously, sensing that the other has something slightly controversial in mind. “Are you alright, Miles? You seem tense.”

“I’m fine,” Miles assures him, though the knot in his stomach doesn’t go away that easily, “but I have to talk to you about something. The lads have been trying to plan something, and they sent me because they were hoping that I could convince you to go along with it.”

“Plan something?” Alex watches him innocently, unsuspectingly. “What have they been planning?”

“They are getting fed up with not being able to see you,” Miles tells him with brutal honesty, feeling his mouth go dry and the sensations prickling somewhere behind his eyelids, “and frankly, so am I.” 

Alex appears to simply freeze for a moment. He’s staring straight back at Miles without reacting. This was not the conversation that he was expecting. 

“But…” Alex opens his mouth slowly, though he doesn’t know what to say. “But you see me every day. Right here.”

“That’s right, we see you every day for school,” Miles says, placing both hands on his hips, “but you know that’s not what I mean. Come on, Alex. How long has it been since you’ve hung out with us after school? Visited someone’s house? Gone to see a film? Gone for a drink somewhere?” 

Alex’s face is expressionless, but Miles sees that he’s mortified to be having this talk. Again.

“Miles…” He mutters tiredly, but there is nothing else to add to that.

“I know it’s not your fault,” Miles soothes him and steps slightly closer towards him, “trust me, Alex, I know. I know that it’s not because you choose to not hang out with us. It’s because you can’t, isn’t it?”

Alex doesn’t pull away from him.

“Miles, I’ve told you before,” he mutters uncomfortably, “I’m okay. You don’t have to make it sound like I’m a prisoner.”

“Then what are you, Alex? Hm?” Miles inches even closer towards him, looking straight into those fragile, doe eyes. “Are you just waiting ‘til you turn 18 and it will all be over? Because you’ll be somewhere else? That doesn’t sound like a good plan to me.”

“That’s not what I’m doing!” Alex hisses, looking around him to make sure that no one is watching them. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Miles. I’m doing good. My aunt has made me realise that I simply need to work harder if I want to achieve anything for myself. That’s all.”

“Do you really need to work so hard that you aren’t able to go anywhere?” Miles questions cruelly. “What is she telling you, Alex? Has she threatened to do something to you if you leave the house without her permission?”

“Come on, Miles, listen to yourself,” Alex snaps, “that’s ridiculous! Are you really suggesting that she’s threatening me?”

“I don’t know,” Miles shrugs, taking in a deep breath. “I don’t know what’s going on with you anymore, Alex. You don’t talk to me. You don’t talk to anyone.”

“Because I don’t need to,” Alex insists with a tinge of annoyance, “I’m not in trouble, okay? I’m just… adapting to a new living situation.”

Miles clenches his fists, realising with great frustration that he won’t be able to get Alex to tell him anything. Not like this. Hence, he decides to test the other’s statement instead.

“Fine,” Miles goes on, “if you are truly free to do whatever you want, come with us out Friday night. Jamie knows someone who’s having a house party, the lads told me to invite you along.”

Alex begins to chew his lip evidently, taking his time to consider his answer.

“Look, Miles – it’s not that I’m not free to go, but… I sort of promised Auntie Ruth that I’d be trying my hardest to drink less, to be more responsible. You know that’s the truth, don’t you? I told you already. She’s just trying to help me mature a little bit.”

Miles leans his head back and sighs, not to provoke the other, but to prove his point.

“So she does forbid you to do things,” he concludes, crossing his arms, “I knew it!”

“Don’t give me that,” Alex bites at him, tired of having this debate again, “for one thing, I feel fine about her… guiding me. I don’t mind spending more time at home, or with my work. Her rules don’t bother me, I swear.”

“Alright,” Miles says, knowing that Alex has just made a big mistake, “prove it to us, then. Prove that you’re not bothered about her rules. Come to the party with us. Matt and I have arranged for us to sneak you out of the house. She’ll never know that you’re missing.”

“You have what?” Alex is eyeing Miles like he almost doesn’t believe him. “You and Matt are going to sneak me out of the house? In the middle of the night? What are you going to do? Bring me a ladder? Do you want me to escape through the window? Is that what you’re asking of me?”

“If that’s what it takes to get you out of there, then yes!” Miles exclaims. 

“Fine!” Alex cries suddenly. “If that will get you off my back, I’ll do it!”

He’s about to slip away from Miles who is all over his face now, but Miles stops him by clutching on to his elbow.

“Alex, wait! Don’t you get it?” Miles forces him to look at him. “I miss you.”

Alex swallows a lump in his throat and avoids Miles’s gentle eyes. Now is not a good time for him to become emotional.

“You don’t have to miss me,” he whispers, “I’m right here. Don’t you see that?”

“No,” Miles sighs truthfully, “no, Alex, I really don’t.”

 

*

 

As it turns out, Alex meant it when he said that he would go out with them Friday night. Matt and Miles show up outside his house at eleven o’clock, around the time when his aunt is supposed to assume that he’s asleep. The house is dark and completely quiet by the time they show up. Miles takes his phone out and sends Alex a text to let him know that they are there.

“Bloody hell, everyone’s asleep at eleven o’clock on a Friday night,” Matt whispers to Miles incredulously, “I knew that family couldn’t be normal when I saw them.”

Miles waits for Alex to text him back. When he does, and Miles announces that he’s on his way out, Matt asks:

“Which window are we supposed to watch out for?” 

“I’m not rightly sure,” Miles admits, “I haven’t exactly figured out where his new room is.”

Matt sends him a nervous stare and Miles can tell that he’s already worried that they’ve fucked things up. He knows that they ought to be doing something in order to help Alex climb down the wall safely, however, neither one of them feel comfortable taking a walk around the house, especially considering how they can’t possibly know where Ruth’s bedroom is.

Then they hear a subtle sound from a window being pushed open, which appears to come from the backside of the wall; the one facing the garden. Miles and Matt hurry around the corner, looking upwards where they spot Alex swinging himself out from his window acrobatically, somehow managing to cling onto the exterior windowsill, from where he is able to reach for the drainpipe. Holding onto the pipe dangerously, Alex succeeds in climbing down almost elegantly, and he’s got Miles watching him closely and with a certain amount of admiration, too, until he’s far enough down to rest his foot on the ground floor windowsill.

“Hey man, I’ve got you,” Matt whispers as he approaches him and grabs a hold of Alex’s middle, lifting him down unto the grass almost effortlessly. “Jesus, Al, you’re feather light,” Matt teases him, “it’s like picking up a girl.”

“Very funny,” Alex tells him and grunts slightly as he arches his back and relaxes his muscles, “you can let go of me now, by the way. Thanks.”

“Fucking hell, Alex,” Miles grins and reaches forward to pat his friend’s back, “I can’t believe you actually snuck out like that. That was way easier than I thought it would be.”

“Easy for you to say when I did all the work,” Alex teases him, winking, “come on, guys, let’s go. Quick.”

“Why? Do you think you woke someone up?” Matt asks him.

“I don’t know, but I don’t want to stick around long enough to find out,” Alex breathes.

“Right this way,” Miles says, gesturing with his head towards the street, “we’re meeting up with Jamie and Nick in five minutes. We’re all getting a taxi to Jamie’s friend’s place.”

 

*

 

Inside the taxi, Alex and Miles are practically forced to sit on top of Matt and Jamie’s laps in order for all of them to fit inside one vehicle. Nick watches and laughs at them from his comfortable position in the front seat.

“Al, you crazy son of a bitch,” he laughs, looking over his shoulder, “I can’t believe you actually broke out like that.”

“How the fuck are you planning on getting back inside?” Jamie questions with a sly grin on his face.

“Well, I was counting on these guys to bring a ladder for me,” Alex jokes, looking over at Matt and Miles, “but I guess I’m left to my own devices now.”

“Don’t worry, man,” Matt smirks, slapping Alex’s shoulder, “we’ll give you a bunk-up or summat. You’ll be fine.”

Alex continues to smile and laugh with the others, but the more Miles watches his facial expression, the more certain he is that Alex is faking his confidence. All the jokes and gags aside, Alex is secretly worried about what’s going to happen when he returns to the house.

“Anyway, mate, it’s good to see you,” Nick says slightly more seriously as they are approaching their destination, “the group has been falling short without you. Isn’t that right, lads?”

“Hear, hear,” Jamie nods, rearranging himself as Miles’s bum digs into his thigh.

“My parents keep asking when they’re going to see you again,” Matt tells Alex in a heart-felt moment, “perhaps you should come over for dinner some time next week?”

“Yeah… Yeah, that would be great,” Alex smiles, keeping his head down. As he clears his throat and fixes his gaze at the window, Miles recognises the troubled expression of a boy who is trying desperately to figure out whether or not he’s just committed the biggest mistake of his life.

 

*

 

As they arrive at the scene, everybody is laughing, clinging on to each other’s shoulders, ruffling Alex’s hair, teasing him, reminding him how long it’s been since he’s been out. The party is located inside a large flat in the city centre, where Jamie’s friend lives on his own. They join people inside, Jamie says hi to the people he knows while the rest of the gang meets up with Andy Nicholson and whoever they may recognise from school.

“Alex!” Andy exclaims with a huge smile on his face. “Fucking hell, mate, I didn’t expect to see you here!” The two of them embrace, and Alex seems genuinely happy to see him as well. “Come on, mate, it’s been so long. Let’s get you a beer.”

He wraps an arm around Alex’s shoulders and walks him away from the others, in search for accessible alcohol. Miles watches as the two of them disappear, wondering if Alex is still troubled by fear and regret or if he’s started to loosen up and enjoy himself.

“Aw, so much for going through all that trouble to bust him out,” Matt jokes, gesturing with both arms, “I can’t believe we have to see him walk away with someone else. We just got here.”

“Calm your boots,” Nick tells him with a carefree shrug, “he’ll be back. He knows who his real peeps are.”

“Anyone up for a smoke?” Miles suggests, motioning towards the balcony offering a nice view over the city. “It’s on me.”

“Well, I ain’t declining such a gracious offer,” Matt says, bumping his fist with Miles in appreciation. “Come on, lads, let’s see if there are any girls outside.”

Throughout the night, as his friends begin to drink heavily and goof around the place noisily and drunkenly, Miles feels himself holding back, sipping his beers carefully as though he wants to cling onto his soberness for as long as he can. He keeps an eye on Alex the entire time. Not to see who he’s with, but to make sure that he’s alright. That he’s laughing instead of worrying.

Alex isn’t left on his own at any point. Not even once. If he’s not chatting with Andy Nicholson, he’s dancing and laughing with Matt and Nick, or sharing a bottle of wine with Jamie, smiling widely as he’s introduced to new people, even a couple of girls. Miles sees one of these girls touching Alex’s arm suggestively, but he doesn’t offer her much attention and in the end, she grows tired of it and leaves. 

Matt attracts everyone’s attention around two o’clock by invading the living room, claiming the space as his dancefloor as he begins to swag about without a care in the world, singing “The Boys Are Back In Town” for everyone to hear.

“Al!” He cries drunkenly, wrapping an arm around Alex’s neck and the other around Jamie’s, drawing them both close against himself. “It’s so good to have the gang back together… All of us, I mean… Without anyone missing. Don’t go hiding from us again, Al. You belong here,” Matt declares, followed by a hiccup, “you belong with us, you know.”

Alex grins at the intoxicated state he’s in and doesn’t seem to take his words too seriously. 

“Fuck off, Helders, you’re bloody strangling me here,” Jamie grunts and frees himself quickly, “come on, big boy. Let go of Alex and come join us for some fresh air.”

By ‘some fresh air’, Jamie means a joint outside on the balcony. He drags Matt and Alex with him, before he gets a hold of Nick and Miles, too.

“I don’t like weed,” Nick complains, though he takes a drag as the joint is passed on to him, anyway, “it makes me feel nauseous.”

He passes it on to Miles, but he declines, offering it over to Matt.

“I like it,” Matt declares happily, inhaling several times, “works a lot faster on me than booze. Here, Al. I know you’re happy when you’re high.”

“Fuck off,” Alex tells him, though he accepts the joint and inhales skillfully, making Miles realise that this isn’t his first time, either. Not long after that, Alex begins to laugh loudly along with the others, slapping his thighs with amusement, though no one seems to know what the joke is.

 

*

 

An hour later, Miles runs into Alex in the hallway. They have both been searching for the toilet and have both found it, though now there appears to be an issue to settle as to who gets to go first.

“You first,” Alex winks at Miles, and Miles can’t help but to notice that this is the second time that Alex has winked at him tonight.

“Oh no,” Miles grins, “after you. I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” Somehow Alex manages to move his face closer towards Miles’s, flicking his eyes at him without being too obvious about what he wants.

“Certain,” Miles utters, staring straight into Alex’s dilated pupils. He has seen Alex drunk many times before, but never high.

“If you insist…” Alex smirks at him, giving him a slightly teasing stare. He moves past Miles and opens the door to the toilet. However, instead of closing it behind him, he lingers by the doorstep, looking over at Miles as though he’s waiting for something to happen.

Miles doesn’t have to wait for an invitation.

Following Alex into the toilet, Miles shuts the door behind them and locks it carefully. When he’s stood face to face with the other, Alex approaches him, though he never actually touches him. He stops dead in front of Miles, looking up at him as though they are communicating telepathically, blinking almost sleepily, though every fibre of his body has been awakened. It’s all written in his eyes. The desire. The longing. Miles feels as though he can read his every thought.

“I’ve missed you, too,” Alex whispers suddenly, forcing Miles’s heart to skip a beat.

Miles captures Alex’s shoulders with both hands and pushes the other backwards, until he’s got him firmly pressed up against the wall. Alex moans, spurring Miles on, and Miles urges himself close up against him, pinning Alex between himself and the wall, using all of his strength. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Miles sighs with an equal amount of both joy and frustration, over and over again, “you’re so god damn beautiful, I haven’t been able to take my eyes off you all night.”

If Alex had anything to respond to that, he isn’t given the chance. Miles snogs him fast and hard, using so much more determination compared to their first kiss where he tried to be gentler. As Miles shoves his tongue into Alex’s mouth, still struggling to develop a perfect technique, Alex twists and squirms, but not because he wants to be let free. On the contrary, he wraps his arms around Miles’s neck in a frantic attempt to bring him closer, eager for more. And Miles is more than ready to give it to him; reaching a hand into Alex’s thick hair, grasping it mercilessly in order to keep his head steadied, he kisses him as deeply as he can, finally understanding the expression ‘exploring someone’s tonsils with your tongue’ a little better. Alex seems to fall slack in his arms, so in a sense, it’s lucky that Miles is restraining him, keeping him from falling. He responds to Miles’s kisses by moving his lips, following the other’s pace, but he’s somehow unable to match Miles’s dominance. Miles yanks at Alex’s hair, forcing his head backwards as he pulls away from his mouth.

“Miles,” Alex sighs heavenly, closing his eyes and gasping obscenely, “oh my God.”

Miles has started kissing the other’s jawline intensely, causing Alex to shudder and his breath to hitch deliciously. Miles moves further down, ghosting over Alex’s throat before he forces Alex’s head further back in order to ravish him by the collarbone. Alex shivers with delight and begins to moan, too lost and absorbed in the tingling sensations brought to him by Miles, to worry about people hearing them. 

“Fuck!” Alex groans as Miles’s warm breath washes over the sensitive skin by his neck.

“You like that?” Miles hums, taunting Alex by sinking his front teeth into his skin carefully, nibbling at his neck playfully. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No,” Alex gasps helplessly, causing Miles to grin with satisfaction, “no, please. Don’t stop.”

Miles lets himself get carried away by Alex’s encouragement; he reaches down and grasps on to Alex’s legs, lifting him up so hastily that Alex is forced to wrap his legs around him in order to keep his balance. They both grunt as Miles pushes his pelvis against Alex’s, rutting against him ruthlessly, causing Alex to jerk whilst he’s heaving for air. Miles isn’t letting him go; driving into him almost forcefully and pinning him up against the wall securely, he feels Alex clawing at his back like a wild animal as he begins to suck and kiss at his neck once again.

“Shit!” Alex hisses passionately, throwing his head back out of free will this time. He’s still keeping his eyes closed. He’s afraid that, if he opens them, he’s going to realise that Miles’s touching him is all part of his imagination. “Oh fuck – Miles!”

“Alex!” Miles responds, breathing heavily as he licks his way up towards Alex’s chin.

Alex shivers again and Miles backs away from the wall momentarily, carrying Alex with him, only to ram them both up against it all over again, letting Alex’s back smack against the cold surface loudly. Alex wheezes as Miles moves his body against him suggestively and counters by moving his hands down to the hem of Miles’s shirt, lifting it up teasingly. Initiating another round of almost furious snogging, Miles pants frantically when he feels Alex’s fingers finding their way underneath the fabric of his shirt, touching his naked skin mischievously. Miles exhales into Alex’s open mouth and everything is truly blissful, until – 

“Hey!” There is a cautious knocking on the door, which has them both pulling out of the kiss simultaneously. “Is anybody in there?”

“Go away!” Miles hears himself shouting, desperate to return to the moment, in which there isn’t room for anyone to intrude. When there isn’t a second knocking, Miles smirks and tightens his hold around Alex’s thighs. “Where were we?” He whispers, leaning in to kiss Alex’s lips again.

But Alex turns his head to the side, avoiding him. He has started to look uneasy.

“Miles, I – I don’t think I can do this,” he murmurs, suddenly wriggling and fidgeting nervously in Miles’s grip, asking to be released. “I’m really sorry.”

“What’s wrong?” Miles asks with concern, looking into Alex’s eyes pleadingly. “Alex, no one has to know about this. It’s okay.”

“You don’t know if someone’s listening by the door,” Alex says, shaking his head, “I – I don’t want to risk it.”

“But – but I’m not going to let anyone find out about us,” Miles objects, “I promise. Come on. It’s been so long…”

“Miles, please…”

“I’ve missed you so much. Alex, come on – just five more minutes…”

“People might already know we’re missing,” Alex goes on, pushing against Miles to stop him from kissing him again, “please – just let me down.”

Miles gives in and lets go of Alex’s legs, slowly, so he doesn’t fall. They stand in front of each other quietly for a moment, trying to catch their breaths. Alex is looking slightly flushed and Miles can practically feel the sweat moisturising his own forehead.

“Alex, I don’t want to lose you,” Miles utters with sudden drama, though he hates how pathetic it makes him sound.

“You won’t lose me,” Alex tells him, his voice quivering. It’s almost funny how Miles used to be the one making him this promise when Alex himself needed some assurance. But it’s not up to Miles anymore, to guarantee the continuation of their relationship, it seems. “I promise,” Alex adds when he sees the look of doubt in the other’s eyes, “I just – I can’t do this right now.”

“You’ve told me that before,” Miles reminds him, sighing and wiping a hand across his forehead. “I’m starting to think that maybe you don’t want this at all.”

“No – no, don’t say that,” Alex bites his lip and lowers his eyes, feeling guilty. “I can’t think straight right now. Alright? It’s the alcohol, or the bloody weed or… something. I feel like I can’t gather my thoughts.”

“What is there to think about?” Miles pries, sensing that, perhaps, there is something that Alex isn’t telling him. Perhaps the problem has nothing to do with Miles at all.

“Everything,” Alex retorts with an exhausted grunt. “Forgive me – I just… I need some air.”

Alex pushes past Miles and heads for the door. Miles doesn’t even look at him, he simply hears Alex locking himself out without a word, disappearing on him without an explanation once again.

 

*

 

The party ends at four o’clock in the morning, when everyone’s more or less run out of alcohol and the music has stopped playing a long time ago. Miles and Alex don’t talk much for the rest of the night, though they do put up a smiling façade in front of their friends, pretending that nothing has happened to break their spirits. 

“Right, Jamie and I are off,” Nick says, downing his last beer and using Matt’s shoulder for support as he struggles to get up from the sofa, “but we have to do this again soon.”

“Looking at you, Al,” Jamie jokes, elbowing him in the ribs until Alex is forced to push him off, laughing.

“Alreyt,” Alex tells him, shaking his head, “if I don’t get busted when I get home, I promise we’ll do this again soon.”

They all get ready to leave and as they’ve said goodbye to their host, Miles follows Matt and Alex outside in search for a taxi.

“Right, lads, looks like I’ll be walking you both home,” Matt grins, wrapping an arm around them both. “Besides, someone’s gotta help Alex climb back up the window. I don’t trust you to do the job, Kane – those skinny arms of yours wouldn’t get him far.”

Miles slaps Matt’s arm, feigning offense. In secret, he almost wishes that Matt knew how Miles was able to lift Alex off his feet in the toilet not long ago.

The taxi ride home is quiet. Matt is so drunk, he almost falls asleep several times, resting his head on Alex’s shoulder, then Miles’s. Miles catches Alex checking his phone numerous times, looking more and more anxious the closer to Park Lane they get.

“Your aunt doesn’t wake up before six in the morning on a Saturday, does she?” Miles asks in an attempt to soothe the other. When Alex looks over at him, he offers him a gentle smile.

“No,” Alex chuckles, putting his phone back inside his pocket, “I guess I’m just being paranoid.”

Miles feels like there is more to be said, but he doesn’t want to risk it, in case Matt isn’t really asleep. They arrive at Park Lane, outside Miles’s house ten minutes later. Miles and Alex shake Matt by the shoulder in order to wake him up, laughing slightly when he produces a snore and jerks awake. After paying about seven quid each for the ride, they get out of the vehicle and approach number 13 slowly, as silently as they can. Checking to see that there are no lights on inside the house, Alex releases a sigh of relief.

“Alright, buddy,” Matt whispers, patting Alex’s shoulder, “I think you made it. They’re all still asleep, it seems.”

But Matt has spoken too soon.

As they sneak around the corner, to the backside of the house, Alex stops dead as soon as he looks up and pins down the point from where he climbed down earlier.

“What’s wrong?” Miles mutters, observing the paleness of Alex’s skin.

“My window…” Alex says, all terror-stricken. “I left it open. Someone’s closed it.”

“What?” Matt hisses. “No, that cant’ be…”

Before they are able to make sense of the situation, they all turn around at the sound of a twig snapping and they only realise that someone is approaching them when a flashlight is being held up and shone right in their faces.

“Well, well, well,” a dreadfully familiar voice sounds, with a hint of cruel pleasure and amusement, “look who’s back so soon. I thought we wouldn’t see you again until dawn.”

Miles is forced to narrow his eyes at the brightness coming at him from the flashlight, but once the light has been lowered, he spots the silhouettes of three massive blokes immediately. 

“Did you really think you could sneak off without us knowing?” The same voice speaks mockingly. “You must take us for idiots or something.”

Terrence. Miles recognises his enormous figure and his menacing face immediately as he continues to approach them. And behind him are none other than his brothers, Henry and Percival.

Alex has not yet regained his ability to speak. Even when Terrence walks up to him like a shark closing in on its prey does Alex not move or utter a single word to defend himself. Terrence holds up his flashlight once more, flashing it straight into Alex’s eyes contemptuously, laughing when it’s obviously blinding him.

“So what if we’ve been out for a few hours?” Matt speaks up suddenly, causing everyone to look over at him. “Whose fucking business is that? Who fucking even cares?”

Bad move.

Terrence drops his flashlight and walks over to where Matt is standing next to Miles, refusing to let anyone intimidate him.

“Who the fuck asked for your opinion?” Terrence spits at him, baring his teeth. “Do you think I fucking care what you think, you little twat?” 

“Oh fuck off,” Matt snorts, standing his ground, “you’re not as scary as you think, you ugly motherf-“ 

Terrence seizes Matt by his collar, shaking him furiously in order to shut him up.

“Stay the fuck out of this!” He bellows, threatening to knock Matt over. “Do you hear me?!”

“Terry, no!” Alex shouts, snapping out of the comatose state he’s been in since they were taken by surprise. “Let him go!”

Alex jumps in to try and get between them, but this only forces the remaining brothers to get involved. Restraining Alex by holding on to both his arms, Henry and Percival drag him away from Matt, kicking and screaming.

“What the fuck is this?!” Terrence fumes, pushing Matt away from him violently enough for Matt to tumble against Miles, threatening to take them both down. “Am I dealing with a group of babies all of a sudden?”

With his hands full of Matt, Miles looks up in time to see Terrence returning to Alex as he’s more or less trapped in between his cousins. 

“This is for fucking thinking you can go out behind our backs!” He screams, raising his beefy hand and slapping Alex brutally across the cheek. “And this is for even trying to argue with me!” At this, Terrence pulls Alex forward and tackles him down against the grass, leaving him to gasp painfully by his feet.

“No!” Miles hears himself crying at the top of his lungs, letting go of Matt. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

He runs towards Alex, thinking he can get to him. However, he ends up running straight into the arms of Henry instead.

“Back off, you little brat!” Henry warns, pushing against Miles’s shoulder, keeping him away from the scene. “This doesn’t concern you.”

“I saw you fucking slapping him!” Miles hollers, fighting against him with all his might. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Miles, it’s okay,” Alex groans almost calmly as he raises himself to his knees, clutching his bruised cheek, “I’m fine.”

“No,” Miles barks angrily, “no, Alex, I won’t let them fucking treat you this way!”

Miles continues to fight and to protest until, seconds later, a lamp attached to the house wall is switched on, illuminating the entire lawn.

“Alright, boys, that’s enough,” Ruth’s voice sounds somewhere behind them. None of them had realised that she was watching the scene without interfering. “It’s time to go back to bed, don’t you think?”

Miles halts and tears himself away from Henry before he’s given the same treatment as Alex. Ruth is watching him coolly with her arms crossed, only wearing a short nightdress and a pair of ugly slippers.

“You saw what they did!” Miles bellows as he tries to reason with her. “Don’t tell me you’re just going to pretend it didn’t happen!”

“I didn’t see anything I wouldn’t have done myself,” Ruth tells him dismissively, then focusing her attention on her sons, “alright, boys, let’s get him inside, shall we? It’s freezing cold out here.”

Terrence and Percival haul Alex to his feet, giving him only a brief moment to recollect himself.

“I’m fine,” Alex wheezes again when he catches Miles staring at him, “it’s okay, I promise. Just go. Both of you.”

Percival gives Alex a push, forcing him to walk away from his friends.

“Alex!” Miles shouts after him, but to no avail.

“And you two,” Ruth adds wickedly, frowning at Miles and Matt as though they’re a pair of rats terrorising her garden, “you better get off my property before I ring the police.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex shows up for class with a black eye and the lads are eager to do something about it - if only Alex will let them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Mentions of physical violence/ abuse

Miles is livid. There’s no other word for what he’s feeling right now.

He’s sat watching Alex silently in the middle of their English class, eyeing the purple bruise that Alex is sporting just below his left eye. It appears that Terrence’s handling of him has proved to be even rougher than Miles can recall; Alex’s cheek is marked so badly, not even some make-up has managed to cover up the discoloured skin. Alex catches Miles looking him over with a passive-aggressive expression on his face, enabling him to comprehend Miles’s disapproval, but for some odd reason, Alex keeps quiet and pretends that nothing has happened.

“Are you sure you’re alright? Does it hurt?” Miles mouths as quietly as he can, trying not to interrupt the film that Ms. Hayward has put on about 19th century novelists. Miles and Alex are sat in the back of the classroom, and with everybody else focusing on the film projector, he’s hoping that no one will notice him staring at nothing else but Alex.

“What?” Alex whispers distantly, acting like he hasn’t heard him. He keeps his eyes on the film dutifully, though it’s obvious to anyone that he isn’t paying attention. Not really.

“Your cheek,” Miles mutters persistently, “does it hurt? It looks quite bad.”

Alex lowers his gaze and feels at his bruised skin instinctively, hiding it away behind nervous fingertips. 

“No – no, honestly, it’s not as bad as it looks,” Alex replies quietly. He’s beginning to look sort of self-conscious and uncomfortable, and almost ashamed, which has Miles feeling puzzled and confused. Alex doesn’t feel like he’s the one who’s at fault – does he? It certainly ought to be the other way around. But the sad truth is that Alex, as it appears, has chosen to blame himself rather than those bastards, his own flesh and blood, who did this to him.

Miles isn’t able to make sense of any of it.

“Alex,” he whispers tensely, searching for the other’s hand under the table, “I won’t let them get away with it. Don’t worry – we are going to report it. You have both me and Matt as witnesses.”

“Report it?” Alex grimaces, removing his hand from Miles’s. “Are you out of your mind? They are my family.”

Miles raises an eyebrow. Surely, Alex can’t be defending them?

“Yeah, well, they don’t treat you like family,” Miles hisses, feeling enraged, “your own cousin who’s ten times bigger than you, Alex, hit you and threw you to the ground. He attacked Matt, too, in case you don’t remember it. And your aunt did nothing. I saw her – she couldn’t have cared less.”

“Miles, please,” Alex begs slightly anxiously, “just stop overreacting, will you? There’s nothing we can do about it. Not now.”

“Yes there is – we can go to the head teacher’s office and let him know. Right now. He’ll know how to remove those people from your house.”

“Those people?” Alex glares at him. “Bloody hell, they are the only family members I have left, and you want me to just write them off like that?”

“Alex, they are not treating you right-“ 

“You don’t know that! You have no idea what they are like normally, do you, Miles? You’ve never even given them a chance.”

“I know that your cousin is a violent thug,” Miles snorts, “do I really need to know anything else?”

“Look,” Alex murmurs resignedly, “he wouldn’t have reacted that way if I hadn’t behaved like a brat.”

“Oh, so now you were asking to be slapped, were you?” Miles shakes his head, moping. “Don’t defend them, Alex, you know better than that.”

“I broke the rules,” Alex insists, “I came home in the middle of the night, smelling like alcohol and weed. I was being disrespectful and selfish-“

“For crying out loud,” Miles interrupts him, raising his voice dangerously, “you were only out partying like every normal person our age would do! What’s the fucking harm in that? That’s certainly not something you deserve to be given a black eye for!”

Miles falls silent and looks around him when the classroom suddenly seems awfully quiet. Only then does he realise that Ms. Hayward has paused the film and is now looking down towards the back of the room, trying to identify where all the noise is coming from. 

“Turner and Kane,” she speaks sharply, using her disciplinary tone, “since you’ve forced me to pause the film and managed to draw all the attention to yourselves, perhaps there is something you two would like to share with the rest of us?” 

Miles opens his mouth and is more than tempted to actually stand up and tell her that yes, there is indeed something that he would like to get off his chest, after which he is going to point to Alex and demand that Ms. Hayward is going to get those monsters evicted from his home who’ve wronged him so unmistakably. However, when Alex’s body tenses and he looks over at Miles pleadingly, like his life depends on the other’s silence, naturally, he fails to do the sensible thing.

“We were – we were just talking about the film,” Miles utters idiotically, making a few people laugh in the front rows, “sorry for interrupting, Miss.”

Ms. Hayward narrows her eyes sceptically. Then, as though she’s been able to read Miles’s mind, her stare fixes on Alex and lingers by his purple bruises. Reluctantly, she clears her throat and stalls, uncertain of what to say next.

“Alright,” she finally responds, somewhat apprehensively, “just be quiet from now on, will you?”

Everybody returns to the film, but for Miles, the tension in the room doesn’t go away. Alex has resorted to looking away from him, pretending to keep himself busy by taking notes on a piece of paper, but it becomes apparent that his mind is elsewhere when only a moment later, his notes turn into random doodles, instead. Anything to refrain from having another debate with Miles. At the end of the class, while everybody packs up and storms out as though they are participating in a race, Ms. Hayward stays behind to watch Miles and Alex silently. It is only when everybody else has left the room that she stops the two boys by the door, on their way out.

“Turner,” she utters in a strange voice, gesturing for Alex to come back inside, “I couldn’t help but notice the… mark you have on your face.” She bites her lip uncomfortably. Miles knows for a fact that Ms. Hayward has always taken a shine to Alex and liked him for his good work. However, as Alex’s life has changed drastically over the past six months and he’s become withdrawn and uncooperative, she seems confused and perhaps a little disappointed with him. “Has anything happened to you that the school ought to know about?”

Alex folds his arm and places a hand to his shoulder awkwardly, looking down at his own feet. How Ms. Hayward fails to read the shame on the young lad’s face, and his sudden fear, Miles will never understand.

“I – I was at a party,” Alex starts uncertainly, trying hard to sound casual about it, “I must have fallen over or walked into summat – I don’t really remember how it happened.”

Their English teacher hesitates and looks her pupil over closely. Judging from her uncomfortable behaviour, she’s probably more than happy to believe any cover-up story in order to make things less awkward. 

“I see,” she mutters tentatively. “For a moment, I thought you had been in a fight. And I know that isn’t like you, Alex.”

Alex forces a timid smile, shaking his head.

“No, of course I haven’t been in a fight,” he tells her. “It was just an accident.”

Miles scowls at that, crossing his arms irritably. What incenses him further is the fact that she is so ready to believe his lies, just because Alex used to be a favourite pupil of hers, and just because it means less paperwork for herself. 

“Alright, then,” Ms. Hayward looks sort of relieved, “well, perhaps you should get the school nurse to look you over. Perhaps there’s something that she can give you for the pain. I’ll ring her right now and tell her that you are on your way.”

“Thanks, Ms. Hayward,” Alex mouths quietly, though she’s done absolutely nothing to help him.

 

*

 

On his way to see the school nurse, Miles has starting following after Alex, determined to have another word with him.

“Just tell the nurse what really happened,” Miles begs him, tugging at Alex’s arm in order to make him turn around, “come on, Alex, you know I’m right. If they think they can get away with abusing you once, they are definitely going to do it again.”

“Abusing me?” Alex says, stopping dead to look him in the eyes. “Miles, quit it, will you? They are not abusing me!”

“Oh right, how silly of me,” Miles huffs, “they are only smacking you around, giving you curfews, forbidding you to go outside and see people. What do you want to call it instead, Alex? Are they merely teasing you? Or are they perhaps taking advantage of you?”

“Miles!” Alex hisses, looking around the hallway. “Lower your voice, will you?”

“I’m telling you, those people are condemning you to live like a prisoner,” Miles goes on, ignoring his friend’s pleas, “the only difference is that, unlike most prisoners, you haven’t committed a crime! And the sooner you realise that, Alex, the sooner we can make things right again.”

But it appears that Alex has had enough of their arguing. Pulling away from Miles, he yanks his arm free and turns his back on him.

“Just stop trying to rescue me, Miles,” he grunts dejectedly, and perhaps with a hint of embarrassment, too, “I don’t need rescuing. Especially not from my own family. I’m not some helpless damsel in distress, and you’re not the brave hero that I’ve been waiting for all my life.”

“Excuse me?” Miles objects, stepping in to stand in front of Alex, searching for his eyes desperately.

“I can take care of myself!” Alex exclaims, hiding behind his fringe. “I’m sick of people patronising me.”

“Alex, I’m just trying to help you – that’s all,” Miles breathes gently, wishing the other wouldn’t live his life in denial like that, “I’m only saying this because – because I care about you.”

Hoping that he’s now convinced Alex to listen to him, Miles jumps with surprise when a voice calls their names out somewhere behind his back. Taking a step away from Alex, Miles looks up and sees that Matt, Jamie and Nick are approaching them.

“Alex,” Jamie calls as he walks up to him with a serious look on his face, “Matt told us what happened. Let me see your face.”

Alex looks up; not to obey Jamie, but because there isn’t really anywhere else for him to look. Jamie releases a small gasp, but goes silent, almost like he hadn’t expected Matt’s story to be true. It’s Nick who – at the sight of Alex’s battered cheek and his crushed, heartrending expression – can’t hold himself back:

“That son of a bitch!” He exclaims with great fury, startling Miles. “Who the fuck does he think he is? I’m gonna find him – I’m gonna teach him to pick on someone his own fucking size!”

“You’re not his size, Nick,” Matt intervenes, observing Alex’s sorrowful face with great despair, “Terry’s massive. He’ll have you floored in a minute.”

“Not if there are four of us, he won’t,” Jamie snaps, “we will all fucking do it. We will all take him down!”

“And you don’t reckon his brothers would come to his assistance?” Matt points out moodily. “I’m telling you, when he had me by the collar, I couldn’t even shake him off me. We wouldn’t stand a chance.”

“Then we’ll call for backup,” Nick insists, “we’ll get Andy Nicholson and Glyn Jones, and their friends, to join us. I’m sure they would love to throw a punch at those thugs.”

“You will do no such thing,” Alex protests, looking appalled at the idea of declaring war on his own cousins, “you’re talking about Terry like he’s a… hazard or summat. Just leave him alone – please?”

“But Alex, he is a hazard,” Matt quarrels, “he’s a hazard to you, to anyone who gets in his way. He’s like – always looking for trouble, or for someone to pick on. Aren’t you sick of it?”

“Yes, I’m sick of it,” Alex admits, “but ambushing him isn’t going to make things better. You’re only going to make him angrier.”

“And then what?” Miles butts in, giving Alex a hard stare. “Is he going to take it out on you? Or what are you saying?”

“No – no, that’s not what I said at all!” Alex snaps at him, frowning. “Stop twisting my words.”

“Has he ever threatened you, Alex?” Miles presses on, pushing the other to the edge. “Is that why you’re so afraid of standing up to him?”

“Miles, for fuck’s sake,” Alex bursts out frantically, “will you stop being so overly dramatic? You make it sound like I live my life in fear!”

“Not for much longer, you won’t,” Jamie cuts in, wrapping an arm protectively around Alex’s shoulder, “when we’re through with your cousins, they will never lay a hand on you again, Al, I promise.”

“Just – just stop it! All of you!” Alex cries, tearing himself away from Jamie. “Nobody is starting a fight with my cousins, do you hear me? Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go see the school nurse.”

As Alex storms off, Miles catches Jamie, Matt and Nick looking after him with great worry painted all over their faces, and it’s making him realise that out of the group, Alex is the one that everyone is especially protective of, the one who’s treated with particular delicacy, as though he’s precious, or exceptionally breakable. Whereas Nick and Matt – and Jamie, too, in a sense –like to act butch and all sure of themselves, Alex is the one that people feel inclined to ruffle the hair of, or to carry around on their shoulders at drunken parties, pretending that he’s a cute bird they’ve picked up. But it’s not just that his physique is smaller or more fragile than theirs; it’s all rooted in their relationship to one another.

Though an only child, Alex is like everybody’s younger brother. Though the lads may make fun of him, or get him into trouble at times, people from outside their own circle of friends have better watch out. If anyone was to lay a finger on him, or do him wrong in any way, as already proven in the case of Luke Pritchard, they best keep their eyes open. Jamie, Matt and Nick will be on their arses until they’ve evened the score.

And Miles will back them up any way he can.

“What do you say, lads?” Nick ponders out loud. “Do we plot our revenge or do we respect Alex’s wish to do nothing?”

“I dunno,” Matt sighs, scratching at his neck, “perhaps we should wait and see what happens next. Give it all some time.”

Jamie huffs, rubbing at his forehead tiredly, or discontentedly. “To be continued,” is all he grunts.

Because this isn’t over.

 

*

 

A week’s time passes and though Alex’s bruises are fading slowly, Miles is feeling anything but reassured. The more he learns about the conducts and behaviours of Ruth Sharpe and her terrible sons, the more he learns about their surveillance and constant watching over Alex, from tracking the time that it takes for him to walk home after school, to following him to the hospital every time Alex wishes to make a visit to his comatose mother, making sure that he doesn’t make any detours or runs off to some place where they can’t find him – the more Miles is convinced that they are dealing with a case of gross injustice. 

After finding out about Alex’s forbidden intake of alcohol and other ‘substances’ at the party, Alex has been prohibited from not only drinking and going out with his friends, but from even smoking a cigarette or spending his money anyway he likes. Watching over his finances and savings, Ruth insists that Alex needs to save up all the money he can if he wants to be able to go to university and lead an independent life without her help. And about the smoking – well, Miles quickly learned about that new rule of hers one day, as he was stood with the lads and Alex outside the school building during a break.

Perhaps Alex hadn’t mentioned his smoking ban out of embarrassment, or perhaps he hadn’t mentioned it because he knew how the lads would react. Nevertheless, there was another thing that he had failed to bring to everyone’s attention. 

Miles was reaching for his lighter when he looked up, almost randomly, and spotted the ugly, spying face of Alex’s youngest cousin, Percival, staring straight at them from across the street. Miles jerked and gasped with surprise as the two of them made eye contact, after which the overweight, freckled, thin-haired bloke with the overbite began to walk straight towards him.

“Alex!” Miles panted. “What the fuck is your cousin doing here?”

The others looked up instantly, horrified to watch Perry marching towards them dangerously, like a fucking tank. 

“What the fuck!” Matt uttered disbelievingly. “Al, has he been sent to spy on you in between classes or summat?” 

“N-no,” Alex stammered nervously, taking a small step backwards, “no, I guess I forgot to tell you. Perry is kind of – well, he’s studying for his driver’s license these days.”

“And?” Jamie spat, already giving the youngest member of the Sharpe family a hard stare.

“And – well, it’s just that the main office is sort of connected with – you know – the school building.”

“You’ve got to be joking!” Nick exclaimed, cringing his face as Perry continued to approach them. “Does that mean he’s going to show up here every week until someone is dumb enough to let him pass?” 

Alex ignored Nick’s remark. Instead, he found himself tensing uncomfortably as Perry started to shout at him:

“Turner! What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Luckily, there weren’t any familiar faces around to witness what happened next.

“Leave him alone!” Matt fumed instantly, seemingly ready to push the bigger bloke away as soon as he caught up with the small group. “We’re stood here minding our own business, and we’re not breaking any fucking rules.”

“Oh yes, he is,” Perry snorted nastily, taking another step towards Alex with a menacing look on his hideous mug, “what the fuck is this?!” He spat as he snatched the cigarette from Alex’s fingers, after which he threw it on the ground and stomped on it several times. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, Turner?”

“It – it was just a cigarette,” Alex uttered softly, attempting to soothe the other.

“Exactly,” Perry thundered, “I thought you’d understood my mother’s orders perfectly clear, you little twat. No smoking – no ciggies, no roll-ups, no fags – no nothing!”

“That’s funny,” Miles butted in with an angry laughter, “seeing as your mother smokes like a fucking chimney!”

“Oi – you stay out of this, you little faggot, or I’ll break your nose!” Perry swung his fist in the air, forcing Miles to step backwards involuntarily, feeling like a bloody coward. “Now, give me your packet,” Perry told Alex punitively, “when I hand it over to my mum, she’ll see that you broke the rule about not spending any money as well!”

“I never bought a packet,” Alex muttered with frustration, “my friends offered me a cigarette, that’s all. I don’t have anything else on me.”

“I don’t fucking believe you,” Perry growled, clenching his teeth. Then, at once, he reached for Alex with his chubby hands and began to shake him furiously in order to try and rip the jacket off him and search through his pockets.

However, Jamie was having none of that.

“Let go of him, you ugly son of a bitch!” He screamed, throwing himself at Perry by wrapping his arms around the other’s neck, fighting hard to drag him away from Alex. Unfortunately, though Perry is only a year older than they are, he is five times bigger and stronger, and even though Jamie fought until his face turned all red, he would never have been able to tow him off the ground. He did manage to make him let go of Alex, though. But only for the sole purpose of seizing Jamie’s arms and hurling him off as violently as he possibly could. Jamie fell off the other’s back immediately, colliding with Nick who was perhaps trying to catch him. Perry, however, wasn’t finished with him.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” He spluttered in Jamie’s face, approaching him aggressively. “Did you try to take me down, you maggot? Do you want a piece of me – do you?”

“Oh, bring it on!” Jamie shouted back, jumping back to his feet. Throwing a punch aimed at Perry, however, he missed and was soon pushed to the ground by the other, who barely seemed to be making an effort.

“Not so cocky now, are you?” Perry gloated, pressing his foot down against Jamie’s chest, pinning him to the ground and causing him to wheeze miserably. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

“Alex!” Miles hissed, shaking Alex by the arm. “Do something – make him stop!”

But Alex was just standing there, watching with a troubled expression on his face, completely frozen.

“Get the – hell – away from me!” Jamie fumed, coughing, using his fingernails to scratch at Perry’s chunky leg in a pathetic attempt to defend himself. “Or else-“

“Or else what?” Perry laughed at him, sounding exactly like Terry and pressing down his foot even harder. “I don’t think there’s anything you can do to stop me, you prick!”

“Alex!” Miles exclaimed again, watching the way that Jamie’s face was turning dark red. 

Nick had started to throw punches at Perry from behind his back, but Perry shook him off easily without letting go of Jamie, laughing at them the whole time. It was then Matt who came up with a solution out of desperation.

“Fuck off, Perry! Right now!” He cried, pressing down his lit cigarette against the bared skin of the bully’s neck, keeping it there to burn away at him cruelly. Perry began to holler frantically, and as he cried out in pain, he stepped off Jamie in order to turn himself around and push Matt away him. Matt saw his reaction coming, and though he got pushed backwards once, he quickly dodged the second blow and ran further away from the bigger bloke, trusting him to not be a good runner himself, and to give up.

“Come back here, you filthy, scummy son of a whore!” Perry bellowed, clutching at his neck to dull the throbbing pain. “I’m going to make you pay for that, you – you fucking pestilence!”

“Perry, no,” Alex finally begged, running up to him cautiously as he was trying to get his attention, “please just – just let it go. I’m really sorry, okay? I’m sorry for smoking!”

Perry looked over at Alex with mad eyes, his overbite protruding grimly as he frowned.

“Damn right you are,” he wheezed, flexing his biceps in order to make himself look even more superior to the scrawny lad in front of him, “and I’m going to make you regret it, Alex – just wait and see. You know how my mother feels about you disrespecting us.”

“I know, I know,” Alex spoke anxiously, “just please – go before someone sees you. Please?”

To Miles’s surprise, Perry actually seemed persuaded. For some reason, whether it was wounded pride over having received a battle wound that he hadn’t expected, or the idea of being able to take it out on Alex later, he actually kept his mouth shut and turned away from them all, leaving the school property before any of the teachers got involved. 

As soon as he was gone, Alex had run to Jamie’s side, offering him a hand in order to get him off the ground. Jamie, on the other hand, had simply given him a look of accusation before turning him down.

“No thanks,” he grunted dolefully, grimacing as he sat himself upright, “I’ll help myself.” 

 

*

 

The word has already gotten out that Taylor has broken up with Luke Pritchard due to her unyielding love for Alex, who still doesn’t pay attention to her, but Miles is able to truly verify those rumours a few days later, when he and Alex walk past Luke in the hallway. Though they don’t say anything to one another, Luke scowls at the very sight of Alex and as he gets ready to walk past him, he pokes him in the ribs with his elbow and nudges him with his shoulder, pushing forcefully and causing Alex to lose his balance. Luke then disappears quickly, while Miles catches and steadies Alex before he falls over. 

“What a prick!” Miles huffs loudly, hoping that Luke isn’t too far gone to hear him. “Are you okay?”

Alex groans and doubles over slightly, clearly in pain. However, it isn’t Alex’s semi-fall, which has Miles suddenly worried. It’s the way that Alex has fallen silent as he holds a protective hand over his ribs, shielding himself. Something about his reaction doesn’t sit quite right with Miles.

“Alex,” Miles speaks with sudden anger, “follow me!”

He drags Alex with him into the nearest toilet he can find, locking the door and leaving the other utterly puzzled.

“Miles, what the hell are you doing?” Alex pants, sensing that some sort of confrontation is brewing over his head. “What are we doing in here?”

“Lift up your shirt,” Miles commands crossly, giving Alex a look of anticipation.

“What?” Alex frowns. “Are you serious?”

“Lift up your shirt, Alex,” Miles tells him again, already losing his patience with him. “I want to have a look at you.”

“Is this your way of flirting with me?” Alex complains, though he knows that something is up. Backing away from the other slightly, he finds himself pressed up against the wall, helpless. Miles closes in on him and has him cornered easily. When Alex fails to comply, Miles reaches for Alex’s shirt and pulls it up roughly, all the way up to his nipples. “What are you doing?” Alex whines with mortification, struggling half-heartedly. “Miles!”

Miles stops dead when he zeroes in on Alex’s flank, concentrating on the lower ribs. Alex’s skin is covered in bruises and welts, leaving his skin purple and yellow, with even a few blackish marks from angry fingerprints here and there. Letting his mouth fall open in shock, Miles widens his eyes and goes pale.

“Oh my God…” he chokes, believing he is going to be sick. “Oh my God – Alex! What the fuck is this?!”

“Let go of me,” Alex groans sullenly, tearing Miles’s hand off his shirt, after which he is quick to cover himself up again. “It’s none of your business!”

“None of my – none of my business?” Miles shrieks, clutching Alex’s shoulder, shaking him. “Alex, for fuck’s sake – they’ve beaten you up! What the hell is wrong with you?!”

“What’s wrong with me?” Alex snaps. “Is this my fault all of a sudden?”

Miles lets go of him and covers his eyes with both his hands, taking in a shaky breath.

“Fuck!” He hears himself shouting. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! How could you let this happen? How could I let this happen?!”

Pulling at his own hair in distress, Miles looks over at Alex who’s now awfully quiet and who’s managing to look back at him calmly.

“It just – it just happened,” Alex whispers in a matter-of-fact tone, “no one could have stopped it. It’s okay, Miles.”

“Okay? How the fuck can you say that this is okay?” Miles spits furiously. “This is anything but – this is… This is assault, Alex! Were you ever planning on telling anyone about this?”

Alex shrugs, averting his eyes self-consciously. 

“I don’t see what difference it would make,” Alex mutters almost timidly, “telling anyone, I mean.”

“So what? You were just going to keep this to yourself?” Miles laughs manically, feeling himself become absolutely hysterical. “Alex, this is sick! This is absolutely fucked up! They’ve tricked you into believing that this is your own fault, haven’t they? And why? Because you smoked a fucking cigarette on school property?”

“Stop condescending me for one moment, will you?” Alex hisses. “I know that their rules aren’t exactly fair, but guess what, Miles? This would not have happened if the rest of you had just stayed out of it! What the hell was Jamie thinking, anyway – attacking Perry! I already told them to just leave it alone!”

“Oh yeah, ‘cos you were doing just fine on your own, weren’t you, Alex?” Miles mocks him. “They only beat you up because your friends stood up for you, didn’t they?”

“What the hell are you saying?” Alex thunders, sick with Miles’s accusations.

“I’m saying that this would have happened anyway, because guess what, Alex – they have got full control over you! Have you ever stood up to them, even once?” Miles provokes him. “How many beatings are you going to take from them laying down, before you decide to do something about it?”

“You know what, Miles, I’m really tired of having this discussion over and over again,” Alex pouts, going for the door, “you don’t have to treat me like I’m five years old.”

“Then what am I supposed to do instead?” Miles shouts, blocking the door and keeping Alex from walking out on him, “what the fuck can I do to make you understand?”

“Understand what?” Alex sighs, rolling his eyes. 

“That you are in danger!” Miles exclaims emotionally, trying to reason with his friend one final time. “That you need to get out of that house before it’s too late!”

Alex falls silent and so does Miles. They look each other in the eyes wearily, uncertain as to where to go from here.

“I’m sorry, Alex,” Miles exhales, lowering his voice gently, “but those people aren’t normal. I don’t – I don’t want them to hurt you. Not any more than they already have.”

Alex looks down at his own hands, nodding. Even though he wants to stop fighting with Miles, he can’t stop himself from mumbling:

“If you really want to protect me, Miles, stop pissing them off.”

Miles cocks an eyebrow, taken aback by this. Is Alex admitting the fact that he knows he’s in danger?

“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to protect you, Alex,” he replies sombrely, “but just do me a favour, will you? Don’t wait ‘til it’s too late to ask for my help.”

 

*

 

Over the next few days, Alex struggles to make peace with not only Miles, but the rest of the gang, too. Even though Miles hasn’t told anyone about his most recent bruises, everyone seems to have decided that an intervention needs to happen, and that Alex must be given an ultimatum. 

Either Alex agrees to let someone do something about his lunatic aunt and her even crazier offspring, or the lads will officially stop feeling sympathy for him.

And if Alex was to lose his best mates, he wouldn’t know how to keep himself going these days.

“Miles is really mad at me,” Alex confides in Matt when it’s just the two of them picking up their lunches together, believing that he and Matt are alright to talk like they used to do. However, Matt is left to frown at him, sick and tired of Alex’s acting like he doesn’t know what the problem is. “I can hardly get him to look me in the eyes anymore.”

“Honestly, Al,” Matt grunts with a judgemental shake of his head, “he’s not the only one. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but Jamie, too, is struggling to act normal around you.”

“What? Jamie?” Alex is eyeing Matt like a wounded animal, making it so much harder for Matt to ignore his big, brown eyes, so full of hurt. “Is Jamie mad at me?”

“He says he can’t believe the way you sometimes act like nothing’s going on,” Matt tells him candidly, continuing to look away from him, “he says you keep running away instead of facing up to reality, and that it pisses him off.”

Alex lets his mouth hang open in astonishment, shocked that Matt is being so outspoken with him without even apologising for it. This is not the kind of attitude he’s used to getting from his friends at all.

“It – it sounds like you get where he’s coming from,” Alex mutters gingerly, with a stab of uncertainty. “Matt? Matthew, look at me – please. Are you blaming me for what happened the other day?”

Matt bites his lip, struggling to force himself to stay so harsh. When it comes to Alex, he carries a big, soft spot inside him, which makes it nearly impossible for him to be mad at the other; except for the times when he knows that, unbelievably, it’s for Alex’s own good. 

“We’re not blaming you for your cousin’s actions,” Matt sighs, moving over to queue by the till, and he’s immediately followed by Alex, “we just think that-“

“We?”

“Jamie, Nick, and I just think that, maybe, you shouldn’t be so passive about the whole thing,” Matt sighs, staring down at his food, feeling like he’s slowly losing his appetite, “I mean, he had Jamie down on the ground and you just stood there. Watching.”

“Matt,” Alex objects, “I was just as angry as you were. I just – didn’t know what to do.”

“No, Alex, you weren’t angry,” Matt corrects him ruthlessly, “you were scared. More scared than anyone I’ve ever seen before. And it makes me wonder why.”

Alex swallows a lump in his throat, feeling his cheeks go red with humiliation. Is Matt right? Is he really a bigger coward than he thought he was?

“I wanted to defend Jamie,” Alex exhales, feeling defeated and beaten, “but Matt, please, you have to understand… I live with these people. I can’t just start a fight without there being consequences.” 

“See, Alex, that’s exactly what I’m talking about,” Matt exclaims suddenly, fed up with the other’s precaution, “I mean… Honestly, Al, I love you like my own brother, but I swear… I will never understand how you could choose to live with those villains over my family.”

Matt moves ahead as it is his turn to be served, and Alex is left behind in the queue, feeling ridiculously small and belittled. Unable to tell if Matt is truly pissed off with him or not, he’s both hesitant and nervous when he gets his food and moves over to the table where the gang has already started eating in silence. Alex senses Jamie and Miles looking away from him as he joins them reluctantly, and though they make space for him, there is an obvious tension surrounding the table, resulting in no one knowing what to say to one another.

Alex feels as though someone’s punched him right in the gut, or slapped him in the face. It seems obvious that he is the reason for everyone’s uneasiness and the idea of falling out with the only people who’ve been keeping him going so far, is causing the breath to hitch in his throat and the tears to sting in his eyes.

Alex realises that something has to be done before it’s too late, and above all, that he needs to set his priorities straight. 

 

*

 

Miles is stood in the school library, browsing for relevant material for his paper in Biology, when he gets the feeling of being watched. Looking up from the bookshelves to find Alex standing quietly behind him, Miles jolts and drops the book on Cell Division and Reproduction that he’s been holding in his hands. Torn between asking Alex what the heck he’s doing scaring the shit out of him and simply picking up his book, Miles pauses as Alex moves forward and stoops down to get the book for him. 

“Here,” Alex whispers awkwardly, offering the book back to Miles in an almost surreal manner.

“Alex,” Miles pants, “you nearly gave me a heart attack!”

“I’m sorry,” Alex apologises, staring down in the ground, “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

He falls silent and Miles can tell that something is up with him.

“Hey,” Miles breathes soothingly, believing that Alex is upset, but as he reaches out to stroke the other’s cheek, Alex surprises him by seizing his collar and pushing him backwards into the bookshelf with a determination that is beyond impressive. Miles avoids banging his head against the stack of books behind him, but only just, and before he’s able to collect himself, Alex plays with the hem of his shirt gingerly as he leans in to press himself up against him.

“Miles,” he whispers softly, and perhaps slightly pleadingly, too. Then he leans in to brush his lips against him sweetly, asking Miles to open up to him. Miles is so shocked by this development, he fails to respond to the kiss, even if his own body is urging him to. He is simply stood there, letting Alex pin him against the bookshelf and kiss him because he doesn’t know what else to do with himself. 

“Alex,” he mouths after a short while, holding a hand up between them, causing Alex to stop, “what is this? What is happening right now?”

“I love you, Miles,” Alex utters sincerely, “that’s what’s happening.”

“What?!” Miles cries, pushing against Alex, believing it’s a joke. “Al, you’ve never done anything like this before!”

“I know – and I’m really sorry,” Alex declares in his most beseeching voice, “I should have let you in a long time ago, but I’ve been so confused.”

Pressing his lips against Miles’s one more time, Alex has him panicking at the idea of snogging in a public space.

“Alex!” Miles hisses, pulling away from him again. “People could be watching us!”

“But they’re not,” Alex argues desperately, “I already made sure that I was on my own when I came up here to find you.”

“But why now?” Miles questions bewilderedly, hoping that this is actually happening and not just another daydream of his. “Why here?”

“Because this is the only place where we can be together,” Alex replies earnestly, sending chills down Miles’s spine, “as soon as I leave the school property, they will be waiting for me to come home. And they wouldn’t let me go see you on my own – not in a million years.”

“But why? Why, Alex? What are they so scared of?” Miles grimaces, feeling himself getting worked up. “Why are they trying so hard to isolate you from the rest of the world?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Alex shushes him, wrapping his arms around Miles’s neck, “not now. The important thing is that I’ve finally realised how I feel.”

“Oh yeah?” Miles angles his head. “And what is it that you are feeling?”

Alex exhales a couple of times, letting out a shaky breath. With his heart pounding eagerly, he looks into Miles’s eyes significantly.

“I want you,” Alex tells him with such emotion, Miles is able to spot the tears in his eyes, “I want you and I need you, Miles. I’m ready for you. I’m ready for – hell, everything!”

Shocked at Alex’s emotional state, Miles moves his hand to the other’s jawline, caressing and comforting him.

“Everything?” Miles repeats, raising both eyebrows. “And what does ‘everything’ entail, love?”

Miles has not yet realised how naturally this term of endearment has left his lips, like it’s a word he’s used to throwing around him all the time.

“I – I’m ready to be with you, Miles.” The tears are now rolling down his cheeks silently, but Alex doesn’t break their eye-contact. “More than anything, I’m ready to end this nightmare. You’re right, Miles. Something is wrong. I’ve been feeling it for the past couple of days. Auntie Ruth has been acting really strange around me, even stranger than normal. I – I don’t know what, but I feel like she’s planning something.”

“Planning something?” Miles pulls a concerned face. “Alex, has she said something to you? Has she threatened you?”

“She doesn’t have to,” Alex says, shaking his head, “I’m scared all the time. But not just because of them.”

“What else are you scared of?” Miles asks him, pulling him close by holding on to his waist. “Tell me, Alex.”

“I’m scared of losing you,” Alex admits with a small sob, pressing his face against Miles’s shoulder, “not just you, but the lads, too. Jamie has almost stopped speaking to me.”

“He’s just – he’s just upset about everything that’s going on, too,” Miles sighs, though he knows it’s true. He’s seen the way the lads clam up around Alex, like they hardly know who he is anymore. “But Alex, it doesn’t matter. We’re here for you. We’ll help you out of this!”

“Do you really think there is a way?” Alex chokes, trembling slightly in Miles’s arms. “What if it’s too late? I should have listened to you from the beginning!”

“It’s not too late,” Miles promises, holding him close, “we will find a way to get you out of there. You will never have to see those freaks again, I’m telling you.”

“I love you, Miles,” Alex then surprises him again, clinging on to him with all might, “I’m so sorry for having pushed you away all those times. I’ve – I’ve longed for you so much. I never stopped thinking about you. About us.”

Swallowing a lump in his throat, Miles supresses his own urge to burst out crying and to let out all the emotions that he’s been bottling up inside, simply because everything else has kept getting in his and Alex’s way. Life has been getting in their way, time and again.

“Come here,” Miles whispers, urging Alex’s head back, “show me just how much you want me.”

Alex laughs through his tears and palms Miles’s cheek keenly, bringing their lips together in a sensual, captivating moment. As soon as he’s feeling convinced, Miles lets his hands travel down Alex’s body, ready to take charge and explore the other wondrously. Kissing each other deeply and wetly, Miles wishes to god that they could have been alone somewhere, in a different place and time, where no one could ever threaten to come between them again. He wants Alex so bad; the idea of not being able to spend every hour of every day with him is killing him and sending him to despair. 

“I should have known that this is what I wanted a long time ago,” Alex moans, nibbling at Miles’s jaw hungrily and longingly. “I could have saved us so much time.”

“Hey, you don’t have to worry about that now,” Miles soothes him, resting his forehead against Alex’s, “there’s no point in looking back in regret. Because we have each other now. All we need to do is get you out of that house and earn you back your freedom. I promise you, Alex, everything’s coming our way. Soon.”

Alex smiles and it’s making his eyes shine and sparkle like a pair of diamonds. Miles can’t remember the last time Alex looked so happy and so at ease and it’s making him look more beautiful than ever. Miles grins back at him flirtatiously and begins to walk him backwards, until Alex is the one pushed up against the nearest bookshelf. Miles begins to feel him up one more time, playfully, however, he’s forced to pull back when he brushes over Alex’s bruised ribs by accident. Alex doesn’t say anything, but as he cringes in sudden pain, Miles’s touches turn extra gentle and he presses an apologetic kiss to Alex’s hair.

“The only thing I’ll ever regret is letting you stay in that house long enough for them to hurt you,” Miles utters in a slight change of voice, looking into Alex’s eyes seriously.

“It doesn’t matter now,” Alex says, tightening his lips into a sad smile. “As long as I get out of there, I know I’ll be able to put it all behind me. Now that I have you – I think I have all the strength I need.”

Their next kiss is the most desperate one so far. Pressing himself against Alex as though he’s shielding him from the rest of the world, surrounding him protectively, Miles breathes the other in, inhaling Alex’s scent like a strong wine that’s making his knees go weak and his belly feel warm with glee. He can’t get enough, and each time he goes in between Alex’s parted lips and kisses him as deeply as he possibly can, Miles touches him some place new. Everything from Alex’s hair, to his chest, to his waist and finally, the curves of his alluring, loveable, little arse. They only break apart when they hear footsteps on the stairs in the distance, and though they feel pretty confident in the fact that they are finding themselves in one of the most secluded sections of the library, they agree to play things safe. 

“Damn it,” Miles grins, exhaling heavily, “I thought the library would be as good as empty after four o’clock.”

Then something changes in Alex’s expression.

“Shit, is it really past four?” He frowns with concern. “If I’m not home by half four, Ruth will send Terry out looking for me.”

“You better get home, then,” Miles tells him, even though the last thing he wants to do right now is let go of him, “I mean, best not do anything to make them suspicious. Not yet.”

“You’re right,” Alex nods, looking disappointed, “I should probably play it safe until we’ve come up with a plan. But Miles, we have to come up with something – fast.”

“I know,” Miles agrees, stroking Alex’s cheek, “the sooner we can get you away from those people, the better. I’ll – I’ll start planning tonight, even. I’ll phone Matt and the gang, get them to help me come up with a plan. Are you free to use your phone?”

“Only for emergencies,” Alex says with a shake of his head, “most days, Ruth keeps track of who I’ve been talking to, so we probably shouldn’t risk it. Do you really think the lads will help you come up with something?”

“Alex,” Miles breathes, giving him an earnest look, “they want you to be fine just as much as I do. They haven’t stopped caring about you just because things have changed. They would do anything to get you out of there, I know it.”

Alex smiles, closing his eyes for a moment. This is all beginning to feel awfully surreal to him – the idea of having to plan his own escape somehow, like it’s a matter of life and death, even if it means planning Ruth’s downfall, too. However, he is now convinced that something needs to be done.

“Let’s meet up in the library again tomorrow,” Alex suggests, “in this very section – first thing in the morning. I don’t care if I have to miss my first classes for it. This is probably the only place where we can talk privately.”

“I’ll let the others know,” Miles confirms, “you want me to bring them along, right?”

“Yes,” Alex says, “There are – there are things that I should probably apologise to them for.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, love,” Miles sighs, reaching out for his hand cautiously, “they are more than ready to forget everything that’s happened.”

“Thanks, Miles.” Alex lingers for a moment, though he will now be forced to run all the way home in order to make it back in time. Squeezing Miles’s hand gently, he adds: “For everything.”

“You need to go,” Miles reminds him, though it pains him. “We’ll talk again first thing in the morning. We’ll meet up right here. Repeat it after me.”

“First thing in the morning,” Alex grins, “right here. Got it.”

“Good – oh, and Alex? Look after yourself, okay? Be careful.”

Alex nods, adapting an almost anxious expression. For some reason, leaving Miles right now feels wrong, even if he knows that there is no other way.

“I will,” he mutters, letting go of Miles’s hand, “I’ll see you soon.”

Watching Alex disappear quickly through the library, Miles can’t help but to feel like he’s somehow wrong to let go of him – that he ought to stop him before he escapes to some unknown place, in which Miles won’t be able to reach him again. However, though the idea of sending him back to that hellhole that is now 13 Park Lane, even if it’s just for one more night, is now causing him stabs of guilt that he can’t even explain, Miles reminds himself that tomorrow morning, Alex will be with him again and soon after that, he will be safe.

Miles will find a way to save him, at all cost. 

Little does he know, however, that his plans to have Alex rescued will soon prove inadequate and useless. Without knowing it, he has been too late all along. Because, much against Miles’s expectation, Alex doesn’t show up the following day. In fact, Alex seems to have vanished into thin air overnight, and the people who are now left to wonder what on earth has happened to him, will soon be forced to question another thing: Why they didn’t see his disappearance coming whatsoever.

What Miles doesn’t realise is that while he and Alex thought themselves to be alone in the library, they were joined by a third party who ended up being unable to keep their silence. 

And, unfortunately for Alex, this person who caught them together now holds more power over his future than Miles ever could.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex has vanished into thin air and Miles is desperate to find out what has happened to him.

On the day of Alex’s disappearance, Miles discovers that he is left with a text message on his phone, sent to him by Alex at exactly 2.30am the previous night, hours after Miles had turned off his phone and gone to bed.

It reads: ‘Something is happening. We need to talk.’

And now, here Miles is – clueless as to where Alex is and what has happened to him. 

It all started with Miles dragging Matt, Jamie and Nick with him to the library at exactly nine o’clock in the morning, believing with all his heart that Alex was going to meet with them there, ready to talk and to plan his escape. However, as it became clear to them that he was either half an hour late or that he wasn’t going to show up at all, Miles had taken out his phone, deciding that phoning Alex was worth the risk.

That was how he found the text message from Alex that had been sent to him hours ago. 

“Miles? What’s wrong?” Matt questioned, studying Miles’s troubled expression. “Do you have a message from him?”

“Yeah,” Miles drawled, knitting his brow, “but – I don’t know what to make of this.”

Handing his phone over to Matt, Nick and Jamie leant in over Matt’s shoulder to read the message, whilst Miles began to run a nervous hand through his hair, pacing back and forth.

“Well,” Matt released a shaky breath as he finished reading Alex’s final words to them, “he’s saying that he needs to talk to you. So call him. Ask him where he is.”

“What if Ruth picks up instead of him?” Miles pondered with concern, though he accepted his phone back.

“Then you ask the bitch the same question,” Nick told him straight. 

Miles nodded, dialling nervously. However, it didn’t take him long before he cursed lividly at the beep and at the voice telling him to leave a message.

“Fuck!” He uttered, tempted to throw his phone to the ground and smash it. “Fuck – I knew it! That bitch must have taken his phone and switched it off!”

“Or maybe he’s simply switched it off, because he’s in class,” Jamie suggested. “Maybe he just forgot that you were supposed to meet up.”

“No way,” Miles said, refusing this notion, “Alex wouldn’t forget. Not after the talk I had with him yesterday. He told me that he was scared. That he wanted out. I bet that Ruth – that crazy bitch – has been terrorising him nonstop.”

“Still, isn’t it possible that he has changed his mind or something?” Nick shrugged. “He’s been dumb enough to defend her before, so maybe he’s decided to just stay with them.”

Miles looked at Nick sharply, sensing with disgust his temptation to give up on Alex.

“Oh, so you think that’s reason enough for us to call it quits on him? You fucking read the message he sent me, Nick,” Miles spat, “he’s fucking asking for help and all you want to do is ignore him?”

“Of course we’re not going to ignore him,” Matt intervened, giving them both a serious look, “but maybe, what Nick is trying to say, is that we haven’t actually heard him saying that he wanted out. Only you have, Kane. So perhaps you need to tell us more about the talk you had with him yesterday.”

At this, Miles found himself tensing. What the hell was he supposed to tell them? Should he tell them about Alex looking into his eyes as he pressed him up against the bookshelf as though he’d never been more desperate for human contact? Should he tell them how real it felt when they were holding each other close, longing to finally be together, and should he perhaps mention the look in Alex’s eyes – that devastating look of fear – when he told Miles that he was scared, but not just scared for his own life; scared to lose the ones he holds so dear. Or, perhaps, that brilliant light in his eyes when, after all this time, Alex told Miles that he loved him and that he needed him…

Should Miles admit to them how much he missed him already, and how it made him want to puke his guts out with worry, just thinking about what might have happened to him – what might have forced him to send Miles a message in the middle of the night, when he should have been sleeping instead of lying awake, perhaps listening by the door, guarding himself in case somebody was out to get him…

‘Something is happening. We need to talk.’

But what has happened? What on earth could have happened to force Alex to just disappear like that?

“There’s something you don’t know,” Miles began when it seemed that the lads all needed a little persuasion, “I didn’t tell you this because Alex didn’t want anyone else to know. Especially not you guys, seeing as it happened after that episode with Perry.”

“What?” Jamie frowned. “What the fuck have you been keeping from us?”

“After we all fought with Perry, Alex’s cousins must have kicked the shit out of him or something,” Miles muttered, his voice tinged with resentment and revulsion, “because I found him covered in bruises a few days later, all the way down his ribs.” Miles demonstrated uncomfortably by pointing to his own body, finding the exact spot where Alex had been sporting black and blue marks all over his skin. “I think – I think they must have done it to punish him. It looked absolutely horrible.” 

The lads were staring at him disbelievingly, angrily, accusingly, reducing Miles to cower and cringe at their expressions.

“And you never thought once that you ought to let us know about that?” Nick bellowed, “do you really think you’re the only person who might care for his wellbeing?”

“No – no, it’s not that!” Miles exclaimed in frustration. “But you all know what happened when we caught Alex with a black eye. We all thought we were going to get him to press charges, but instead, he persuaded us to do nothing! Even if you had known about his other bruises, he would have still convinced you to keep quiet and do nothing about it.”

“That doesn’t make it right, though,” Jamie huffed, clearly upset, “you should have told us, straight away.”

“I know,” Miles said, exhaling deeply, “and I’m sorry. But now do you understand how serious this is? It was only yesterday that Alex told me that he was scared and that he wanted to put an end to this, and now he’s missing? I have a feeling that something’s not right.” 

Miles’s gaze fell on Matt for some reason, who’d been looking pale and sickened ever since hearing about Alex’s additional beatings.

“You’re right,” Matt then whispered thickly, catching Miles staring at him, “but before we do anything rash, let’s at least make sure that Alex isn’t in class. Or anywhere else in this building. Let’s have a proper search for him.”

 

*

 

It didn’t take them long to rule out the possibility of Alex attending his classes; he was supposed to be doing PE with both Jamie and Matt until 11am, after which he was scheduled for his Music classes, showing up for neither one of those. Miles and the lads spent the following couple of hours searching through the school building, taking turns calling his phone and then groaning at the notice informing them that it was still switched off. Nick and Jamie covered the entire cafeteria by lunchtime, asking absolutely everyone they knew if they’d seen Alex, or heard from him. No one they got in touch with had seen him since yesterday and at the news that Alex could be in trouble, Andy Nicholson even offered to help search for him outside the school building.

He was nowhere to be found. 

At around two o’clock in the afternoon, Jamie and Andy apologised and explained that they had a Maths test that they simply had to attend to and though Miles told them not to worry about, that he, Matt and Nick would take over from here, he couldn’t help but to feel disheartened. Either he was too wound up by this point, or his other friends weren’t worried enough.

“Come to think of it, guys,” Matt told Miles and Nick afterwards, as the shrunken group had decided to take a break by the benches outside and come up with a new plan, “I have been skipping classes all day. My Mum would kill me if she found out. I’m thinking that perhaps I should go to my Physics class in ten minutes, just to avoid a full day’s absence. Doesn’t look good on paper, if you know what I mean.”

Nick was nodding sympathetically, but Miles, on the other hand, was beginning to get fed up. 

“You don’t even care for Physics,” he objected without realising that he was beginning to sound like a bitter jerk-off, “what does it matter if you skip one more class or not?”

Looking over at Miles with mild annoyance, Matt held his breath for a moment and chose his words carefully.

“What are the chances that we are actually going to find Alex here, Kane? We’ve searched for him all day. I’m telling you, he’s not in school. He’s probably at home, which means that we’ve been wasting our time.”

“He wouldn’t voluntarily choose to stay at home,” Miles snapped, “not when I had an agreement with him – an urgent one at that. Besides, do you really think that Ruth would let him miss out on an entire day of school? She’s the one who’s been pestering him constantly and forcing him to do ten times the amount of work that he’s due! I’ve told you, Matt, something is wrong. Maybe they’ve been beating him up again. Maybe that’s why he couldn’t make it.”

“Don’t talk like that,” Matt groaned, rubbing a hand against his forehead, “don’t even joke about it, Kane, I can’t stand thinking about it.”

“I’m not joking, though, am I?” Miles cut him off sharply. “I’m deadly serious. If they can beat him up once, they can do it again. Why do you think we’ve been searching for Alex all fucking morning? We haven’t been doing it for fun, but because he could be in actual danger!”

“Don’t you think I fucking know that?” Matt yelled at that, giving Miles a mean stare and causing Nick to look away from them with embarrassment. “I’m not a fucking idiot! I know this is serious!”

Miles huffed.

“Oh yeah, but not as serious as your Physics class – I get it,” he muttered, his tone stained with sarcasm.

“That’s it!” Matt hollered suddenly, springing up from the bench to hover over Miles, threateningly, like the first day the two of them had met each other in the hallway. “Don’t you dare talk to me like that! Don’t you fucking dare suggest that I don’t care about him as much as you do! Alex and I grew up together like brothers! Nick and I have known him all our lives, while you’ve known him for, what? A year and a half? So go fuck yourself, Kane!”

“Guys…” Nick pleaded uncomfortably, his eyes shifting from Matt to Miles with worry. “Come on now…”

“Well, Helders, if you care about him like he’s your own brother, then how come I’m doing all the fucking work?” Miles hit back, realising that he was no longer the same coward who had cringed miserably when Matt had yelled at him the first time for spilling juice all over his shirt. He was no longer scared of anyone, or of any confrontation. Not when it came to Alex. “If you care for him so fucking much, how come you weren’t the one who discovered his bruised ribs? How come you weren’t the one he texted in the middle of the night, when he needed someone to talk to?”

Miles felt his hands shaking with anger and frustration, but for some reason, Matt was now giving him a calm stare.

“Because you’re the one who’s in love with him,” he uttered matter-of-factly, like this was something known to everyone around here, and like he could barely have cared less. “And people with crushes on each other share more intimacy than brothers do, don’t you think?”

Miles’s mouth was hanging wide open with shock. 

“A-Alex isn’t my crush,” Miles stammered, completely gobsmacked. “What makes you even think that?”

“Oh, give it up, Miles,” Matt grunted, looking genuinely irritated, “it’s so fucking obvious! And if you two haven’t confessed your love for each other already, then God knows you’ve been wanting to! I told you already – I’m not a fucking idiot!”

Miles was still left feeling utterly blank.

“I – I don’t see what this has to do with anything,” he faltered, failing miserably at changing the subject.

“Just don’t tell me that I don’t fucking care!” Matt bellowed one final time. “Just because being in love with Alex gives you privilege, it doesn’t mean that the rest of us have failed him!”

After that, Matt stormed off, looking more distressed than indignant. Miles found that Nick was left to study him with surprise; his big, blue eyes rounded with amazement. 

“I didn’t fucking know you were in love with Alex,” Nick then said, unable to take his eyes off Miles. “Should I feel stupid now?”

“Oh fuck off, Nick, I’m not having this talk now,” Miles groaned exhaustedly, fishing for a cigarette in his pocket.

 

*

 

Miles and Nick continued to search through the hallways for another thirty minutes, every now and again deciding to call Alex’s phone one last time – though it never actually did turn out to be their last attempt. That was when, by coincidence, Miles noticed Taylor and her group of girl friends walking past them, though the girls were obviously trying their hardest to ignore them.

“Hold on,” Miles said to Nick, “I haven’t asked Taylor yet if she’s seen him. I’ll meet up with you in a sec – keep checking!”

Running after the girls before he lost them out of sight, Miles called:

“Taylor! Hey, Taylor – wait up!”

However, to Miles’s great surprise, Taylor began to walk down the hallway even faster in an unexpected attempt to get rid of him. Miles had to sprint after her and fortunately for him, her girl friends seemed to be slowing her down a bit.

“Taylor!” He shouted once more. “Just hold on for a moment – I need to talk to you!” 

Then, staggering him once again, Taylor stopped dead and spun around, walking straight towards Miles with a furious look in her eyes and a raised finger.

“You stay the hell away from me!” She shouted from the top of her lungs, scaring the shit out of Miles who didn’t have much experience talking with girls. In the instant that she started shouting at him, her friends all turned around to give him the same cold, accusing stares, ganging up on him just because Taylor appeared to have beef with him. “I have nothing to say to you!” She cried dramatically. “Leave me alone!”

“But, Taylor,” Miles protested impatiently, feeling sick and tired of having to argue with people one after another, “if I could just ask you one -“

“Get the hell out of my face!” She screamed like a fucking Banshee and her friends backed her up, staring Miles down like he was some kind of aggressor who had done her wrong. “I don’t even want to look at you!”

“You heard her,” one of her friends chimed in, Miles reckoned her name was Suki, but he really couldn’t remember; she was eyeing him with something very close to disgust, “leave her the fuck alone.”

“But – I don’t understand,” Miles gaped, “Taylor, why’re you so mad at me? What the fuck did I do to you?”

Taylor then appeared to implode, right in his face:

“You fucking know what you did, you bastard! You fucking stole him from me, didn’t you?” She shrieked hysterically. “Don’t pretend you don’t know!”

“You bloody swine,” another friend, Laura, added. “Men are all the same – fucking disgusting!”

Miles felt as though someone had just slapped him hard in the face.

“Are you – are you talking about Alex?” He questioned lamely, like her fury could have been caused by any other boy.

“Of course we’re talking about Alex, you pig! Unless there are other girls around here whose fucking boyfriend you’ve corrupted!”

“Corrupted?!” Miles repeated in horror.

“You pervert!” A girl with red hair grimaced. “You should be ashamed of yourself!” 

“Just – just don’t ever talk to me again,” Taylor spat one last time before turning her back on him, ready to withdraw from this conversation and never speak a word to Miles again. As she started to walk away, however, Miles grew desperate and shouted the only possible thing that could have ever attracted her attention:

“He’s missing, Taylor! Alex is missing!” When, reluctantly, she paused as to ask for an elaboration, Miles added: “That’s what I came to talk to you about. Nobody’s seen or heard from him since yesterday. Please?”

Looking over her shoulder to study Miles’s expression, as though she was determining whether or not he was lying to her, Taylor grew suddenly tense.

“Go ahead,” she then told her girl friends sullenly, “I want to have a word with him alone.”

 

*

 

Miles and Taylor were stood at the very end of the hallway, having tried to find somewhere quiet and private. Now Taylor was stood facing him with her arms crossed and with a pouty look on her face, reminding Miles that she didn’t actually want to be stood here with him and that had it not been for Alex, she would have never acknowledged Miles’s existence in the first place.

“So go on, then,” she snarled suddenly, losing her patience with him, “start speaking. Why do you think Alex is missing? And why am I supposed to believe you?”

“If you thought I was lying, would you really have come with me?” Miles huffed, frowning at her hostility. “Taylor, I’ve got to know – why the hell are you telling people that I stole Alex from you?”

“Are you an imbecile?” She asked him mockingly. “Don’t fucking waste my time pretending you’re innocent, Kane. Me and Alex were doing great until you showed up. He used to be my best friend, I hope you know. He was actually into me back then – before he met you!”

“And I ruined your friendship, did I?” Miles rolled his eyes. “Just by showing up?”

“You must have fucking told him some real shit about me,” she growled, “otherwise he wouldn’t have ditched me like he did!”

“Maybe you managed to scare him off on your own,” Miles suggested wryly, feeling less inclined to treat her with sensitivity, “you were fucking all over him, Taylor, trapping him! If you could have just stopped pressuring him into things he didn’t want, you probably would have still been best friends with him!”

“We would have been more than just friends if it weren’t for you!” She shouted, clenching her fists. “Alex belonged with me – we were supposed to end up together, anyone could see that. But you had to ruin it for us, didn’t you?”

“Yeah well, I can definitely see how heartbroken you must have felt to lose him, especially since you started dating a series of other guys!” Miles scoffed. “Even when you started seeing Luke Pritchard just to punish Alex, you must have had it so hard!”

Taylor’s mouth fell open with wrath and her eyes turned utterly mad.

“Listen to me, you little piece of shit!” She warned him. “If you hadn’t gone out of your way to seduce Alex right under my nose-“

“I didn’t fucking seduce him!” Miles cut her off. “Taylor, for crying out loud, Alex and I are just friends. I never did anything to steal him from you.”

“Hah!” She screamed, pulling a patronising face at him. “Tell you what, Kane – friends don’t go making out with each other in public libraries! That’s right – I fucking saw you together!”

“Wait, what?”

“You thought you were being so sneaky, didn’t you? You’ve probably been laughing behind my back the entire time, both you and Alex!” She cried: “But guess what? I made sure I would get my revenge. I got it all right here, on my phone!”

“You what?!” Miles gasped. “Did you – did you take a fucking picture of us?”

“Better yet,” she chuckled contemptuously, “I got you on video!”

“But – but why?” Miles cried with disbelief. “Why the fuck would you film us? Are you planning on showing it to anyone?”

“Maybe I already did,” she smirked, taking a step backwards, but Miles wasn’t going to let her go, leaving him with nothing but a cryptic answer.

“Who did you show it to, Taylor?” He shouted, realising that he was losing all control of himself. “Who?!”

“Why would I tell you when I’d rather have my fun when you figure out on your own?” She taunted him, pushing all his buttons deliberately. “Besides – can you really not guess?”

Miles immobilised, gulping when a sudden, inexplicable nausea started to form and brew in the pit of his stomach. The hammering of his heart had him believing that he was on to something, that he was suspecting the horrible, catastrophic truth, though he didn’t want his suspicions to be true. He didn’t want himself to be right. As he looked into Taylor’s blue, ice-cold eyes, he understood that she wasn’t the pretty, harmless, innocent girl next door that the majority of this school made her out to be. She was a devil – a deceitful, dangerous, evil devil, who Miles was now too late to stop.

“You didn’t,” he croaked anxiously, his fingers twitching, “you wouldn’t have…” 

“What, Kane?” She giggled cruelly. “Say it. What would I not do?”

“Did you,” Miles’s voice faltered, “did you show it to Alex’s family? Taylor, please – please tell me it’s a joke…”

“What is there to joke about?” She then huffed, with a sudden change of mood. “It’s easy enough for you to look me in the eyes, Kane. You only humiliated me, after all. But Alex – he broke my heart. And I will never forgive him for that.”

Miles was getting worked up, fuming, shaking all over. As the breath hitched in his throat and he felt consumed with both resentment and fright, he found himself stepping towards Taylor dangerously, though he wasn’t entirely sure what he actually wanted to do to her.

“You bitch!” He spat, his anger muffling and manipulating his voice until he could barely speak. “Do you have any idea what you have done? Do you have any idea what Alex’s cousins are capable of doing when you piss them off?”

Perhaps Miles had startled her with his fury. Perhaps Taylor had thought that he was threatening her with his loathing and revulsion. Because from out of nowhere, Taylor uttered a panicked scream and slapped him across the face.

“Get away from me!” She cried, growling like a mad dog. “And don’t you dare speak to me like that! If his cousins are as strict with him as people say they are, he had it coming. You both did! Even if they beat him up for being a fucking faggot, he’s deserved it. Don’t you think it’s fair that I get to hurt him back after everything he’s put me through?”

Miles gasped and clutched at his assaulted cheek, feeling the burning sting from Taylor’s open palm. What the hell was wrong with her? Who was this person – this self-absorbed bully, this nonhumanness – whom he was standing in front of, causing him to feel burdened by defeat? 

It took Miles another moment before he could even muster the strength to speak to her.

“I know you believe you loved Alex with all your heart, Taylor,” he sneered at her, screwing his face up in disgust, “but if you ever even cared for him, you would not have done this to him. You really have no idea what’s going on, do you?”

 

*

 

Miles had left Taylor immediately, without bothering to explain his concerns to her, and finding that he never wanted to talk to her ever again. He had found Nick waiting for him in the school building’s east wing, and he had dragged him with him, telling him to hurry as this was a matter of urgency.

Now, as they were headed for Ruth’s house – no, the Turners’ house! – Miles was so troubled by his distress, he could barely think straight. Every time he closed his eyes, he could see the images appear behind his eyelids, popping up to torment and mock him, because these were the haunting images of the worst mistake that Miles had ever committed; the images of everything that had gone wrong, and of what had brought them in this mess. He saw Taylor, hiding herself behind the tall bookshelves in the library as she spied on Alex and Miles during their intimate confessions of love; he saw her eyes brim over with anguish, anger, and possibly remorse, too. She must have felt so devastated to see her hopes and dreams perish so precipitously, without a warning, and to see Miles steal away the person, the very embodiment of everything she had ever wanted for herself. Alex. 

Where had she run off to after seeing the boy she was head over heels in love with kiss someone else? How could she have convinced herself to take out her phone and to actually film the scene in front of her – the scene that was the very cause of her heartbreak? Had she left the library crying? Had someone perhaps spotted her outside the school building, inconsolable and alone? Could it have been Perry who, perhaps, was busy with his driving tests when he came across her and took an interest? Had he been meaning to comfort her, or had he been trying to take advantage of her? Had he been flirting with her? Had he made her a promise to crush the person who was guilty for her pain? Had she really sold Alex out so quickly, so willingly, without even thinking twice about it?

It must have all happened in the heat of the moment. Miles knew a little too well what the rush of high emotions could do to a person; how easily it was to lose focus and to make foolish decisions when you weren’t thinking straight. Given that thought, that admission, Miles thought long and hard about forgiving Taylor for her misdeed, her fault. She had been vulnerable and upset, after all – she still was. However, seeing as no one knew what had happened to Alex since his cousins learned about his relationship to Miles, and seeing as he had yet to be found and to be declared safe and sound, Miles didn’t have it in him to excuse what Taylor had done.

He was too scared, too worried about Alex’s disappearance and what it could all mean.

“Miles!” Nick complained, disrupting his chain of thoughts. “Slow down, for fuck’s sake! I can’t keep up with you, man. Why are you in such a rush?”

“Because…” Miles panted, speeding up despite Nick’s objections, “because, well, let’s just say that I’ve got a bad feeling about the whole situation.”

“Don’t we all?” Nick snorted, unimpressed. “Did Taylor tell you something new? Do you know summat I don’t?”

“No, I…” Miles groaned. “I just have a feeling that Ruth Sharpe’s sons are behind this. I’ve got a feeling that it’s urgent!” 

Miles forced Nick to run with him, deciding not to waste any time at all. As they turned right and entered Park Lane breathlessly, the unexpected scene ahead of them had them stopping dead in the middle of the street. Outside of no. 13, a police car had been parked and the door to the house had been left wide open.

What on earth was going on?

“Maybe Alex has finally reported the abuse,” Nick uttered, though his voice sounded anything but optimistic. 

“What the fuck do we do?” Miles hissed, running a hand through his hair impatiently. “We have to get some answers.”

“Then we’ll go for it,” Nick insisted with determination, “I’m serious. I don’t care if the police are here or not. Let’s go look for Alex.”

Miles nodded, though it was with a heavy heart that he agreed to this. He had an awful feeling that this wasn’t a good sign, the police showing up. There was no way in hell that Alex had phoned for them, not unless something dreadful had happened. But if he hadn’t contacted them, it would have been Ruth, wouldn’t it? But why? Why would she want to involve them when it was her bastard sons who remained the reason for all the commotion? Those violent, pitiful thugs… 

Miles and Nick were walking up towards the front door when, suddenly, two police officers walked out of there, followed by Ruth. Miles and Nick jolted at the sight of them, trying to hide themselves instinctively, though obviously, they’d already been spotted. 

“Oi!” Ruth cried in her rough, nicotine-ridden voice, waving her hand at them as though they were pigeons that she was trying to shoo away. “What are you hooligans doing on my lawn?”

Miles could tell that Nick had frozen completely. He’d never actually had to face Ruth before; he had never before experienced her rude behaviour at first-hand.

“Are you friends of Alex’s?” One of the police officers then questioned with a stern look on his face. He was an elderly man who looked like he was dying to get the hell off Ruth Sharpe’s property. Miles could only imagine the shit they’d had to take from her.

“Yes!” Miles croaked, unsure if this was the right answer or not. “We’re looking for him. Where is he?”

The officers give him and Nick an odd look, but Miles’s eyes were fixed on Ruth. She was grimacing at him meanly, though now she broke into a nasty chuckle.

“I would sure like to know that as well,” she told Miles in a mock-tone, “are you lads certain you haven’t seen him? Or helped him run off, perhaps?”

“What?” Nick grunted, looking utterly bewildered. “What are you on about?”

The slightly younger police officer, also a male, cleared his throat and said: 

“Apparently, young Mr Turner has not been seen since he went to bed last night. He’s now being investigated as a missing person.” 

“What?” Nick cried again, while Miles was too shocked to utter a sound. “He’s missing? Like – for real?”

“According to his guardian, Ms Sharpe,” the elderly police officer turned around to give Ruth a brief look, “he wasn’t in his bed this morning. Are you school mates of his?”

“Y-yes,” Nick stammered, looking white as a ghost. 

“Did you see him in class today by any chance? Has anyone been in contact with him since this morning?”

“Why the fuck do you think we came here searching for him?” Miles snapped before he could stop himself, stunning both himself and Nick beside him. “I mean – we’ve been searching for him, too. No one has seen him all day.”

The police officers seemed to be mildly annoyed with Miles’s little outburst, though they ignored him. 

“Right, well, currently there is no reason to believe that anything criminal has happened,” the eldest officer declared dully, like he couldn’t wait to get on to a more interesting case, “however, Ms Sharpe, if your nephew has indeed run away from home, we can’t legally classify him as a missing person until it’s been twenty-four hours. I suggest you wait around in your home in case he turns up on his own. You never know with young people, do you? They are always so troubled. They get confused and make stupid decisions.”

Ruth grinned, but Miles and Nick were having none of it.

“Alex wouldn’t just run away from home without telling his friends,” Nick objected indignantly, “he’s not that kind of person. He’s not… troubled.”

Ruth huffed at this, crossing her arms casually.

“Oh, I beg to differ,” she uttered calmly, clearly not affected by this situation at all.

“He wouldn’t run away from home,” Miles chimed in, backing Nick up, “not unless something was making it impossible for him to stay!”

Miles locked eyes with Ruth, who – despite her cool surface – seemed to pull a stiff face that was, possibly, meant to express her pure disgust for him and Nick. She now pulled out a cigarette packet from a small pocket in her jeans, and as she lit her smoke without a care, without concern for her missing nephew, Miles once again noticed her sagging breasts, which could have truly done with the support of a bra, her greasy hair, her yellow, stained teeth. 

“You are implying something,” she uttered suddenly, in a voice that was casual and razor-sharp at the same time, “so why don’t you just come out and say it, boy?”

Miles caught the police officers eyeing him with wonder.

“Fine,” Miles breathed, “do you want to know what’s on my mind? I think that if Alex has run away, it’s because he’s been treated so miserably in your house! Perhaps you left him with no choice but to run off!” 

Miles was starting to feel angry and upset. Not only because of Ruth’s magical ability to contain herself and to mask her every thought, making it almost impossible for Miles to make her lose her composure in front of the police, but because of the police officers’ lack of interest, too. They were beginning to look like they were barely paying attention – like this case was a huge waste of their time.

“It’s funny how you seem almost informed about this situation,” Ruth smirked spitefully at Miles, “are you sure you didn’t have anything to do with my nephew’s disappearing? Did you help him run away, huh? Are you perhaps… hiding him in your basement?”

Miles didn’t know what it was, but something in her eyes changed and her smile transformed from simply being unpleasant to looking pure evil. Miles felt a shiver run down his spine and only then did he understand how powerful, depraved and absolutely twisted his enemy was. He had no idea what he was up against, but Ruth seemed to be warning him through her wicked grin alone. If Miles wasn’t careful now, she was going to come after him and make him regret his alertness and observance. She was going to teach him how to shut up and mind his own business. 

“We don’t know anything,” Nick exclaimed then, sounding nervous and distraught, “we don’t know where he is – I swear!” 

Miles looked over at his friend in surprise. Was Nick really that scared that the police were going to interrogate him? At least if they did, Miles and the lads would be able to tell them about everything that Alex had been put through, about the ordeal that it had been for him to be looked after by Ruth Sharpe and her sons. 

“Well, kids are impossible to pin down these days,” the eldest police officer sighed tiredly, “they get so sensitive, so worked up over the slightest issues. Your nephew is probably just trying to make a big, dramatic gesture, Ms Sharpe. Don’t worry, I’m sure he’ll come crawling back home soon enough.”

Was that it? Miles found himself tensing. Surely there had to be more that they could do.

“If it’s been twenty-four hours and you still haven’t heard from the kid,” the younger officer added habitually, “please call this number and we will investigate further.”

He handed Ruth a small leaflet of some sort. It almost looked like a business card. 

“Thank you,” Ruth muttered in a voice which had Miles thinking that she wasn’t grateful at all, “I’ll follow you to your car.”

Perhaps this was her way of telling them to beat it. Miles and Nick remained stood on her lawn, watching as she followed the two men to their vehicle whilst smoking her cigarette calmly. As soon as the police started to drive off, she turned her attention back on them, shouting crassly:

“Oi, you boys can get the hell off my property now! Your friend is gone, you’ve got nothing to do here.”

Nick pulled a face and looked like he was about to shout something back, but Miles merely yanked at his arm, dragging him away from the piece of garden that belonged to no. 13, escaping back to his parents’ house next door.

“We’ve got to regroup,” Miles told Nick, letting them both inside the house as soon as he’d made sure that his parents weren’t home, “we need to tell Matt and Jamie about this.”

“I know,” Nick panted, looking and acting like he was beside himself, “fuck! Shit, dude, I can’t believe Alex is missing! I mean – where would he even go? It’s not like he’s got other relatives to go looking for!” Nick slumped down on a kitchen chair, holding his head in his hands, restlessly. “How the fuck are we supposed to find him now?”

Miles held his breath, feeling like this day had been a never-ending nightmare.

“I think she’s lying,” he then said, causing Nick to frown disbelievingly, “think about it, Nick. Alex could barely manage to sneak off to a party without her finding out about it. There’s no way in hell that she would allow him to just… run away.”

Nick swallowed hard.

“Do you think… Do you think she knows where he is?” He asked, looking utterly perplexed.

“Yes, I do,” Miles spoke darkly, “I think that maybe it was her plan to get rid of him all along. The question is how – and where.”

Nick then cringed, shaking his head stubbornly.

“Get out of here, Kane, you’re fucking scaring me now,” the bigger bloke grunted, looking around himself anxiously. “She can’t just get rid of him! What does that even mean? That’s crazy!”

“She’s crazy!” Miles spat. “Everyone knows she is. We don’t even know what she’s capable of!”

“Not that,” Nick persisted, rejecting the idea, “she wouldn’t be able to just… get rid of him. You can’t just make someone disappear like that. Not without…” Nick paused, falling silent. “Fuck this shit! Everything’s so messed up! I don’t fucking know what to believe anymore.”

Miles kept his silence for a moment. For some reason, his fear for Alex had been replaced by a deep and profound anger, a resentment towards Ruth, which seemed to overshadow everything else. Whatever was happening, he damn well knew that she was responsible for it.

“All I know is,” Miles concluded eventually, though he didn’t mean to wind up Nick further, “that Alex wouldn’t take off on his own in the middle of the night. Not without telling us. Not unless he was in danger. And I mean actual danger.”

“Yeah?” Nick exhaled, eyeing Miles sceptically. “And what makes you think that?”

Miles shrugged, looking down at his own feet.

“There are people here that Alex wouldn’t abandon,” he mumbled, though not without feeling a sting of pain, “that’s how I know.”

 

*

 

Now, twenty-four hours after Alex has been officially reported as a missing person, Miles finds himself in the hospital reception, asking to speak to the nurse who he had once seen embrace Alex when he had brought Miles here to check up on his mum. The nurse is able to see Miles after a short while and as Miles is sat waiting in the white hallway, there is a hollow, miserably tension in his very guts, which makes him feel almost dead inside. Numb. Emotionless. 

When the nurse steps out from a patient’s room, carrying a patient’s journal in her arms, she spots Miles immediately and walks over to him.

“I remember you,” she utters with a certain element of surprise, “you’ve come alone this time?”

Miles looks up at her feeling oddly self-conscious.

“Er – yeah. Sorry,” he replies awkwardly until he figures out what to say, “I was actually wondering if – if Alex has been here recently? You know, to visit his mother – Penny Turner. She’s in the-“

“I remember Mrs Turner, and I remember her son,” the middle-aged nurse cuts him off with a kind, though saddened smile, “you don’t forget a tragic case like theirs, not straight away.” She then seems to recall what Miles is asking her. “But I haven’t seen him in the hospital for the past week or so,” she tells him, “is everything alright with him? I know that some of the nurses around here used to worry about him a lot after the accident.”

Miles almost doesn’t have the heart to tell her, but he does nevertheless:

“I’m here because Alex has been missing for the past twenty-four hours,” Miles hears himself utter the words slightly robotically, though this is a sentence, which still leaves him in crippling anguish each time, “nobody’s seen or heard from him. I was hoping,” Miles coughs, feeling his heartrate increase, “I was hoping he’d been here… That someone might have seen him.”

This leaves the poor nurse dumbfounded and she struggles to think of a response, just like Miles thought she would. 

“I’m very sorry to hear that,” she begins, looking awfully uncomfortable, though puzzled, too, “is he in some kind of trouble? I mean, Alex strikes me as a rather reliable lad. God knows he’s been a loyal visitor in the ICU.” 

To Miles’s own horror, he can feel the tears welling up in his eyes and though he truly didn’t mean to tell this to anyone, his thoughts escape him before he is able to hold himself back:

“He’s not been treated right by his new guardian,” Miles bursts out, taking the nurse by surprise with his admission, “he’s been taken advantage of. Punished for weird shit that he didn’t even do.” Miles feels the tears spilling down his cheeks, but he doesn’t care anymore. “He isn’t an unreliable person. It isn’t like him to just disappear like this.” 

The nurse is now watching him with pure horror, completely lost for words. When Miles breaks down crying in front of her, she squats down in front of him, taking a hold of his hand.

“You need to tell the police about this, darling,” she whispers, looking into Miles’s eyes seriously, “you know there’s nothing I can do about this, don’t you? I’m just a nurse. I know nothing about his home situation.”

Miles nods, wiping at his eyes frantically, feeling beyond annoyed with himself.

“I know,” he rasps, “sorry. I don’t – I didn’t mean to…” He pauses. His mind has gone completely blank.

“Is there anything I can do for you?” She questions nervously, not knowing what else to say. “I’m sorry – I don’t even remember your name.”

“Miles,” he sobs feebly, though there is no point in her knowing his name, “I’m Miles.”

“Miles,” she utters softly, touching his hand again, “what can I do to make you feel better?”

After thinking the whole thing through for another minute, Miles sniffles and whispers:

“Can you please take me to Penny’s room? I need to look after her… For Alex.”

Without having to mention that this is against the hospital protocol, she takes a deep breath and watches the young lad in front of her. 

“You can’t say a word about this to anyone,” she tells him strictly when, after a couple of seconds, she gets back up on her feet and gestures to show him the way. “I’m really not supposed to do this.”

She allows Miles to sit inside Penny’s quiet room for five minutes, undisturbed. Watching the unconscious woman whom Miles barely even recognises anymore, he feels the breath hitch in his throat painfully. Right in front of him lies the dying body of the only person who could possibly have saved Alex from all this pain, all this abuse and affliction. If only she was able to wake up, she could reclaim the happy life she lived before, get the house back, chase away Ruth, offer Alex another chance at living a life full of safety and love, instead of fear and loneliness. If only Penny was able to pull through, everything would have been so different.

But here they are; both dangerously close to losing what they have loved the most. And just from watching the sleeping face of poor Penny Turner who never lived to see what would become of her only son, Miles now knows for certain that he was right all along.

Alex hasn’t escaped. He would never leave behind the body of his dying mother, who is left here, so vulnerable and utterly alone. Alex must still be around, trapped, somewhere. Closer than people think. 

It is only then that Miles recalls those haunting words that Ruth had spoken to him, teasing him with, in front of the police officers. Words that had made Miles’s sweat run cold:

‘Are you hiding him in your basement?’

Miles gulps and feels like he is going to be sick all over the floor.

Fuck.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The search for Alex continues, but Miles doesn't like the answers he's discovering. Because once he knows what's going on, he will never be able to go back from that...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for sticking with this story, but I really must warn you - this is the chapter in which things are starting to get truly dark and disturbing. I will probably try to add more trigger warnings/ tags along the way if I can. This chapter contains not only violence and abuse, but images of confinement as well - so please be warned if you are triggered by any of this!
> 
> Also, hang in there <3

A week goes by without any news on Alex’s whereabouts. Though the police are now involved, it seems that everybody else is doing all the work searching for Alex and doing interrogations; this includes friends, friends of friends, people from school, even a couple of teachers, too, neighbours, parents, entire families who used to know the Turners and who wish to see David and Penny’s boy turn up safe. Seeing as they are no longer here to protect their only son, everybody else is trying their hardest to do it for them. The only people who aren’t searching and who aren’t acting worried whatsoever, are the Sharpes; Ruth and her three sons who have now achieved everything they wanted: To live in a big house, that isn’t actually theirs, and have it all to themselves without sharing it with any of the Turners. 

The gang isn’t the same these days, needless to say. All they ever talk about when they are together is Alex and yet, at the same time, it feels too hard, too painful; everybody wishes they were able to simply not mention his name at all. Matt is the one who’s struggling the most. Sometimes, when the conversation gets heated because Miles insists that Ruth must be involved, that she must be behind Alex’s disappearance, while Jamie argues that they have to leave everything for the police to figure out, claiming that there is nothing for them to do except keep looking for him, sometimes when the discussion goes on like that, Matt simply gets up and leaves. He’ll be too upset to listen to the same debate over and over again because the bottom line is, even if they could actually agree on what has happened, there is nothing that they can do to bring Alex back. Words are not enough. He’s been taken by a greater force that they are powerless against. 

It’s painful to watch Matt worry himself sick over Alex. It’s painful to watch Jamie and Nick fall apart in secret, because unlike Matt, they are keeping up appearances, acting like they are less worried than everyone else, claiming that Alex is tough, that he knows how to look after himself if he’s out there. Though Miles knows that they are putting on brave faces for Matt’s sake, to keep him from losing it completely, he doubts that they will be able to keep this optimism going for long. 

It’s weird to see how everyone is acting different now after learning about Alex’s disappearing. Teachers are kinder towards the lads now, bearing with them, cutting them more slack than they probably deserve. People like Luke Pritchard and his gang are leaving them alone, too, and seem to have stopped badmouthing Alex behind his back. Even Taylor has approached Miles, her eyes full of tears and regret. Though she hadn’t believed Miles the first time she was told that Alex could be in trouble, she seems finally persuaded, and she has been seeking Miles’s forgiveness relentlessly.

“I didn’t know this would happen – you have got to believe me,” she has begged him, several times. “I never actually wanted Alex to get in trouble. I – I just miss him so much…”

Miles has stopped blaming her, or rather, he no longer cares enough for her to keep putting the responsibility on her. Taylor ought to be insignificant in this matter, or at least to him, she is. 

At home, things have changed for Miles, too. His parents have stopped arguing with each other around Miles, too conscious about their son’s mourning to act normal around him. Miles’s mum keeps patting his hair, kissing his cheek, telling him how much she loves him and how she wouldn’t have been able to cope if it was her son who was missing. Naturally, none of this is bringing Miles any real comfort; quite the opposite. It’s only reminding him that Alex might be out there somewhere, on his own, without any living parents to worry about him, or miss him, or arrange search-parties to bring him back home.

How unfair and cruel the world can be… 

Miles keeps trying to share his pain and frustration with the lads, keeps hinting at the way that he can’t stop blaming himself for what has happened, even though there was no way that anyone could have predicted this. However, every time that Miles fishes for comfort, or for reassurance from the others, Matt will tear his eyes away from them and mutter:

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

Then, Jamie will say:

“Honestly, Kane, can’t you see you’re upsetting him?”

After which Nick will try to remain the peacemaker that he has always been:

“Let’s not start taking this out on each other. We’re all upset enough as it is. We need to stick together.”

 

*

 

Miles can’t stop thinking about the suspicions that he’s had, time and again, as he’s reflected on Ruth’s choice of words to him and Nick, or perhaps to him in particular, the day when Alex’s vanishing had been downplayed by the police. 

‘Are you hiding him in your basement?’ 

At first, Miles had thought that she was out to make him a suspect. To make people believe that he could be Alex’s partner in crime. Now, however – now, Miles is more bothered with her phrasing, her wicked smile as she’d said it. She was not messing around, that is for sure. She had not been trying to set Miles up.

She had been hinting for him to realise what is happening.

Miles lies awake in the middle of the night with his heart hammering so painfully inside his chest, he thinks it might jump straight to his throat. She had to be joking, didn’t she? Surely, this can’t be real. This can’t actually be happening.

Nothing ought to be what it seems. It has to be Miles’s own mind playing tricks on him. Nothing that crazy ever goes on in the innocent suburbs, in a small community like the one on Park Lane, full of families and children playing in the street. No one that evil and twisted can possibly be living here – it just doesn’t seem right.

Ruth has to be toying with his mind, planting never-ending doubts and silly ideas into his brain. Otherwise, Miles wouldn’t know what to believe in anymore.

However, the more Miles keeps telling himself not to fall for her evil lies, her pranks, her schemes, the harder it becomes for him to fall asleep at night. At the realisation that it is becoming harder for him to get the lads to talk, to open up, to even pronounce Alex’s name and to take action, Miles slowly begins to understand that he needs to take matter into own hands. Soon. For Alex.

 

*

 

Miles is standing on the doorstep to no. 13. He’s come alone and he’s shaking all over with dread and suspense. It has taken a lot of convincing for him to feel right about doing this and now that he’s here, all he wants to do is run back to where he came from. Because he ought to know by now, doesn’t he – that there’s no way to have a sensible conversation with Ruth. And yet, this is exactly what he’s hoping to accomplish. 

Ringing the doorbell, Miles’s hands are trembling. His breath is shaky and he bets that Ruth will be able to smell his fear even before she opens the door. Taking her god damn time, Miles is left to quiver and get all worked up for what feels like ten fucking minutes instead of mere seconds.

The door opens. Ruth’s displeased face appears right there in front of him, and though he can smell the nicotine in her breath instantly, she almost doesn’t seem real; it feels like facing a mythical creature, a fictive monster from the most horrible of all bedtime stories. Though she has human-like features, they are all twisted and distorted – malevolent. 

She opens her mouth and inhales like a great, big beast that is powerful enough to swallow up the ocean.

“You again,” she utters dully, grimacing at Miles. “What do you want?”

“What do you think I want?” Miles retorts, feigning bravery. “I mean – you and I have only one person in common to talk about, don’t we?” 

She isn’t impressed with his attitude, it seems. 

“I’ll save you the time – he hasn’t shown up yet,” she tells him and it feels like she is taking pleasure in this let-down, “now, if you’ll excuse me…”

“Of course he hasn’t shown up yet,” Miles then ventures, feeling the blood rush through his head, making him feel dizzy, “because he isn’t really missing, is he?”

Miles thinks that she is about to close the door right in his face, but Ruth lingers. A look of amusement has spread across her unkind features.

“You and your allegations,” she muses out loud, taking Miles by surprise, “you are always implying this and that, never speaking straightforwardly. If you wish to acquire any information, boy, I suggest you be more specific.” 

Her tone is meant to ridicule him, but at the same time, there is something sincere in the way that she challenges him to speak his mind.

“Alright,” Miles breathes, “I think you know more than you tell people. I think that you have been lying to everybody around you.” Miles knits his brows together, giving her a serious look. “I think you know where Alex is.”

Again, he expects her to shower him in verbal abuse – or worse – but instead, Ruth is beginning to eye him with honest interest. 

“Oh yeah?” She grins, inviting Miles to keep probing, almost as though she’s enjoying this sort of confrontation. “In that case, what I want to know is – what are you going to do about it, lad? Are you going to accuse me publically? Are you going to tell your mummy and daddy?”

“No,” Miles’s stare turns angry, “I’m going to demand that – that… That you let me in for a moment. I want to have a conversation – a proper one. There are questions I need to ask you.”

Ruth chuckles quietly, probably unable to take him seriously. When he thinks that she is going to mock him again, she simply steps back and opens her door up wide.

“Well, son,” she tells him almost cheerfully, “you were clever to come here on your own. Go ahead and step inside if you want.”

 

*

 

Sat in Ruth’s emerald green sofa – no, David and Penny’s emerald green sofa, god damn it, the one Miles has seen them in so many times before while watching the telly or reading through their pupils’ schoolwork – Miles cannot believe that he has been invited in so easily. Is Ruth not nervous, not wary of him at all? If Miles is truly on to her, she ought to be guarding herself instead of encouraging him to look for evidence. 

“Do you want a drink?” Ruth asks suddenly, entering the living room with a coke can in each hand and a cigarette in between her lips.

Miles looks up at her as though she’s crazy and he can’t help but to pull a face at her.

“No,” he sneers, “I’m not here for a fucking coke, alright? I’m here to find out what’s happened with Alex.”

Ruth confuses him further by laughing at this; she must take great pleasure in rendering people dumbfounded; always doing the exact opposite to what others might expect from her. 

“Suit yourself,” she cackles, seating herself in the chair. She inhales deeply and blows out the smoke that is already filling up the entire room, making Miles’s eyes water, “and people say I don’t have manners.”

Miles frowns, looking at the way she casually opens a can for herself, drinking slowly and almost absentmindedly. 

“You are trying to mock me, aren’t you?” Miles then utters, trying his hardest not to sound upset. “You are testing my patience. Toying with me.”

Ruth continues to smile. Oh yes, she’s loving this. Of course she is. She has the upper hand, after all.

“Do you always get paranoid when people offer you a coke?” She taunts, trying to make Miles squirm with discomfort. “Look, I’ve told you – if you have something to say, say it. Don’t let me waste your time.”

She inhales again, leaning back in her chair. She couldn’t care less if Miles knows her secrets or not; it’s becoming rather apparent that she isn’t considering him a threat whatsoever. 

“And I’ve told you,” Miles hits back the best he can, “I think that you know where Alex is. And that’s what I’m here to discuss. I don’t care about any other bullocks you have to tell me.”

“Oh-ho-ho,” Ruth chuckles almost drunkenly, slurping her coke shamelessly, “do I talk bullocks? Is that what you think? Maybe I shouldn’t talk at all, then.”

“You fucking will talk,” Miles suddenly bursts out, realising that he’s carrying more rage than fear inside him, “because guess what, Ruth? You can’t afford not to.”

“Ruth?” She repeats in a disgusted voice. “You are getting too cocky now, my friend.”

“I’m serious,” Miles pants, “I will go to the police if you don’t tell me what’s going on. I haven’t said a word to them yet, but don’t think I’m not on to you. As soon as I’ve got evidence-“

“Evidence!” She cries, cutting him off. “Evidence of what exactly?”

“Of whatever is going on in this house,” Miles hisses, “because we all fucking know that you are hiding something.”

“Hiding something,” she grins wickedly, “or hiding someone, you mean?”

Miles feels himself shiver. There it is again. A look of significance, of suggestion in her eyes. She’s insulting him, provoking him with everything that he knows deep down inside, but has no proof of. 

“You asked me if I was hiding Alex in my basement,” Miles croaks, feeling his fingers twitch, “why? Why would you ask me that, in front of the police? Were you – trying to tell me something?”

“If you have a theory, do tell me,” she smirks, looking him straight in the eyes, “I’m interested in hearing what you think.”

That’s it. Miles can’t tolerate her provoking him any longer. The way she dances around the subject, dodging the answers that he so desperately seeks is driving him over the edge.

“Tell me!” He suddenly shouts, standing up. “Tell me what the fuck is going on! How can you joke about something like that? Why are you doing this to me?”

Ruth clearly doesn’t like his tone, but she plays it cool and takes another sip from her can before she replies:

“What if I’m not joking?” She gives him another meaningful look. “What if I’m deadly serious?”

“You can’t be!” Miles spits, tensing every muscle in his body. “Do you know how fucked up you sound right now? Hiding Alex in a basement? Stop fucking messing with me!”

“I don’t care enough about you to mess with you, lad. That’s the truth.” Her eyes are calm like still waters. Unnaturally calm. Manipulated. Deceitful. “You know what’s happening here. I know you do. Face it.”

“No!” Miles screams. “No!”

He suddenly runs, taking even Ruth by surprise. Fleeing the living room he makes it to the hallway, searching desperately – searching for something that he thought hadn’t existed, but now seems more real and dangerous than ever. Trying to identify the door to the basement, Miles yanks and pulls at every door handle, crying in frustration when most of the doors turn out to be locked:

“Alex! ALEX, where are you?!”

He feels like he’s trapped in a nightmare. Behind him, he hears Ruth bellowing:

“Terrence! Terrence, get down here – now!”

“No!” Miles squeals, hammering away at the door, which is closest to him. “Get away from me! Alex! Alex, can you hear me? Answer me!”

His efforts do not suffice. Miles is caught by someone throwing their arms around his middle, lifting him off the ground. Kicking and screaming, Miles continues to protest, though he’s all panic-stricken, too shocked to believe that any of this is actually happening. As he’s carried off into the kitchen, he is dropped down unto a chair roughly, causing him to nearly fall to the floor instead. Miles looks up to see Terry towering over him with a smug look on his face. Who the fuck could stand a chance against a Goliath like him?! Miles shouts and springs back up from the chair, but it’s useless. Terry pushes him back immediately and this time, Miles does indeed miss the chair and hit the floor, landing miserably on his bum with a small yelp. 

“Stay the fuck down!” Terry commands in his most harrowing voice. “Don’t make me tell you again – you fucking poof!”

Ruth appears behind him, looking down at Miles as though he’s an insect dirtying her floor.

“You’re feistier than I thought,” she mutters irritably. Miles sees that she is still smoking her stupid cigarette coolly. “Unfortunately, you are a lot stupider, too.”

“Let me go!” Miles hollers, kicking at Terry’s feet. “You fucking maniacs! What the fuck have you done to Alex?”

“I’m telling you exactly what we have done with him, but I’m only telling you once,” Ruth grimaces, “Terry – get him back up on that chair!”

Miles growls when Terry’s beefy hands are seizing him again, carrying him off the floor like it’s no bother at all. As he is slumped back on the chair, Miles is too horrified to fight against him.

“Why – why are you doing this?” He whimpers pitifully, trying to keep them from noticing how badly his legs are shaking.

“You said you wanted answers,” Ruth reminds him cruelly, “you said you demanded a conversation. Don’t tell me you’re going to chicken out now?”

Terry laughs evilly at that.

“Please,” Miles begs, feeling so utterly small and cornered by them, “please tell me this is all a joke…”

“There is nothing here to joke about,” Ruth grunts in a way, which makes Miles think that she is losing her patience with him, “none of this is funny. Do you want to know what’s happened to your little friend? Do you?”

“Please,” Miles whines again, unable to string a sentence together, “oh God…”

“Terry, show him.”

“Now?”

“Yes, now.”

Miles cringes and cowers when Terry reaches for something in his pocket; scared senseless and paranoid, Miles exhales in surprise when he takes out his phone instead of a weapon.

“Does this ring any bells, you prick?” Terry spits at him, holding up the small screen for Miles to look at. “Or have we mistaken you for some other ugly wanker?”

Terry plays him a video on his phone, the sound muted. Miles’s heart skips a beat as he watches what must be Taylor’s video for the first time. And there it is. The caption of their biggest sin, their biggest misstep: Though the camera is shaking, Miles is able to make out Alex’s figure, filmed from in between dense bookshelves, leaning in, pressing himself against Miles, kissing him softly. His beautiful, sweet, innocent Alex, who has been missing ever since this happened…

Miles wants to break down crying as he thinks back to that day. He misses Alex’s touch more than anything, along with the sound of his voice and that spark in his eyes. And though this video is picturing one of the most beautiful and profound moments in Miles’s life, he hears himself exclaiming:

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, okay? I – I shouldn’t have kissed him! But please, please, for the love of God! Tell me that Alex is okay!”

The phone is removed from his face and Miles cringes again, thinking that Terry is going to slap him.

“Why the fuck are you so worried about that little bastard who brought you into this mess?” Terry fumes, stunning Miles completely. “Why do you even care what happens to him?”

His face has gone all red and a vein is popping out in his forehead. 

“That’s all for now, Terry,” Ruth mutters more calmly, giving her son a sharp stare, “I’ll take over from here.”

“But Mum-“

“Terrence,” she warns him, “I’m not telling you twice.”

Groaning, Terry turns around and leaves the kitchen; thus, leaving Miles even more bewildered than before.

“Ruth!” Miles wheezes in a desperate attempt to bargain with her. “I’m sorry, alright? Please – whatever you do, just please listen to me…”

“Don’t worry,” she intervenes, sick of his drama, “I’m not going to hurt you, son.”

Miles’s mouth falls open.

“You’re not?”

He has seen before what happens when you piss off Ruth Sharpe; he’s seen the graphics of her anger painted on Alex’s body, planted there by her sons’ hands. He knows what she is capable of.

“No,” she tells him dully, “I don’t think you understand what this is about. Do you?”

Miles releases a shaky breath, his chest heaving.

“I thought – I thought I had offended you. By kissing your nephew…” Miles ventures sheepishly, feeling like an utter fool. “Isn’t that what this is about?”

“Oh, it is,” she affirms sternly, making Miles’s blood run cold with her piercing stare, “but why on earth would I punish you for something that my nephew did? He was the one kissing you, wasn’t he? Not the other way around.”

Miles stills, falling completely silent.

“Huh?”

“I mean, I realise that most people consider my methods… unorthodox. A little extreme, perhaps.” Ruth takes out a cigarette from her pocket. “But what they don’t realise is that I have always taken great pride in being completely, utterly fair.”

She hands the cigarette to Miles, but Miles is too distraught to accept it.

“N-no thanks,” he stammers; a smoke is the last thing he needs right now.

“I’m not offering,” Ruth snarls at him, “I’m telling you – take it!” She places it in between his lips and Miles freezes. He instantly resents the touch of her cold, stiff fingers. “See, my philosophy is,” she takes out her lighter and brings it closer to Miles’s mouth, “we punish the guilty while we reward the good. Now, you may recall me prohibiting Alex from smoking. But you see – for every rule that that rascal has broken, I have taken away one of his privileges. It’s only fair. My house, my rules.”

“Except this isn’t your house,” Miles coughs, trying to balance the lit cigarette off his lip without touching it, “you tricked Alex into letting you move in. You said you’d look after him, but all you’ve done is punish him.”

“Don’t you get it?” Ruth’s eyes are widening, making her look rather eccentric. “I punish that boy because he deserves to be punished. He’s done nothing but let me down. He’s been disrespecting me right from the beginning.”

“Disrespecting you?” Miles huffs. “Is that why you’ve locked him in your fucking basement? What the fuck has he done to deserve that kind of treatment?”

“You saw.” Ruth inhales sharply, scaring Miles with her angry frown. “You saw the filth that Terry has obtained on his phone. Perry told him that he got it from some girl that you all go to school with, which has me wondering who else she might have been sharing this with. And tell you what, you little punk. It makes me sick. It’s an embarrassment, not just to my nephew, but to me, to my sons as well. We’re responsible for his mistakes now, aren’t we? If people find out, it’s going to be on us. It will be our name that gets dragged through the mud…”

Ruth stops herself, looking genuinely upset.

“If people find out what?” Miles glares at her disbelievingly. “That Alex has been kissing another b-“

“He’s sordid!” She cuts him off, screaming. “My nephew is a sick, disgusting person and I am going to do whatever I can to keep him from tainting others with his sordidness! I always knew that Penny was a horrible mother – she was always too soft on him. Soft mothers end up with homosexual sons,” Ruth snorts, “I think she would be disgusted if she could see him now. Both her and David. They should have taught him about the purity of the love between a man and a woman. They should have taught him many things, come to think of it.”

“You’re wrong!” Miles cries; every word that she has just said has made him shiver with horror. “Nothing about Alex is sick! How can you even talk about him that way?”

“You’re not telling me that you enjoyed being kissed by him, are you?” At that, Ruth’s eyes change frighteningly, becoming much harder, much meaner towards Miles. She’s warning him. She will punish him, too, if she suspects that he is sordid like Alex. “You must have felt disgusted,” she then continues, “like any real man would, of course. Why didn’t you push him away? Why didn’t you… punish him for what he did to you?”

“Did to me?!” Miles repeats incredulously. “I – I…”

“Look, son – I don’t say this very often, but I actually feel sorry for you. I do. I wish I could apologise on my nephew’s behalf, but his decadence, his depravity does not reflect my values as a mother. Still, I want to make this up to you. I know that he tried to corrupt you and that he tried to drag you down with him. I’m hoping that you will be able to resist his immoral behaviour. When I punish and discipline him for what he’s done, for what he is, I hope that you will see that you can never become like him. It’s sick. It’s wrong. He’s a fucking faggot.”

Ruth’s last words feel like a dagger stabbing away at Miles’s heart. It feels like he should basically be coughing up blood by this stage, because every breath, every attempt to keep himself from shedding his tears, is hurting him.

“H-how are you going to punish him?” Miles rasps, his voice threatening to crack and to humiliate him. “Ruth, please… I don’t want you to hurt him…”

“I’m going to do whatever it takes to make him realise just how sick he is,” she grunts. “We can’t go soft on him, my friend, you’ve seen what that brings him to do. It doesn’t matter if we hurt him in the process; he must be stopped. Who knows? He might have already defiled other boys. I’m going to make sure that he doesn’t do it again.”

“Please,” Miles finds himself begging, this time with the tears apparent in his eyes, “no – no, I swear, you don’t have to do this. Alex has never hurt anyone!”

“How can you say that after what he did to you?!” She barks, making Miles jump. “Don’t you dare defend him! That’s exactly what he would want you to do!” 

Miles can’t help himself. He’s so shaken by all of this; his hands are trembling and his cheeks are stained with tears now. At the sight of him crying, Ruth pulls a face and is clearly displeased with his weakness. 

“C-can I,” Miles sobs, “can I see him? Please… I need to see if he’s okay…”

“No, you cannot,” she tells him sharply and she suddenly pulls the cigarette out from in between Miles’s lips, “in fact – I think it’s time for you to leave.”

“What? N-no!” Miles gasps. “No – I can’t!”

“Get up,” Ruth orders him cruelly, “do as I say. I promise you, kid, you wanna stay on my good side. You don’t wanna piss me off right now. Not after everything I have done to help you.”

“Help me?!” Miles bellows. “I don’t want you to hurt Alex! I have never ever asked you to do that!”

“Why are men always such ungrateful bastards?” Ruth fumes suddenly. “I’m telling you, son – you need to leave right now. And you will not speak a word of this to anyone.”

Miles then springs up from his chair. 

“What makes you think I won’t call the police as soon as I leave?” He snaps at her. “Do you really think I’m just going to let you get away with this?”

Ruth pulls at Miles’s arm, nearly scaring the shit out of him.

“If you don’t want Alex to get hurt, I sincerely advice you to keep your mouth shut, you ungrateful piece of shit.” She’s baring her teeth at him, acting just as insane as Terry, causing Miles to cower away from her. “If you tell this to anyone – and I mean anyone – Alex may no longer be here next time you stop by.”

Miles gulps. His tears his arm free, stepping away from her carefully.

“Aren’t you worried that I’m going to tell the police everything you just told me?” He whispers. After all of this, after her admission, he can’t believe that she’s still got the upper hand. That she still doesn’t see him as a threat.

“I know you won’t,” Ruth smiles suddenly, chillingly, “because in the end, I haven’t shown you shit. You’ve got no evidence on me, son. Did I show you my basement? No, I did not. Did I make this whole thing up? Well, you wouldn’t know, would you? Because you can’t prove anything.”

Miles can’t believe what he’s hearing. He can’t believe that any of this is actually happening. Glaring at Ruth disdainfully, his guts are churning at the realisation that he is utterly powerless against her.

“I’m telling you one last time, son,” she speaks menacingly, “if you involve other people in this, something bad is going to happen to your little friend. Now, get the hell out of my house. I have nothing more to say to you.”

 

*

 

Miles spends the entirety of the following night crying his eyes out. He’s retreated to his room, refusing to come downstairs when his mother shouts to him that dinner is ready and so, when she comes up to see what is going on with him, Miles simply turns his back on her, hiding his head under his pillow. His parents are then having a talk about him downstairs in the kitchen. Agreeing that Miles must be emotional and feeling sensitive about Alex’s disappearance, they are both too awkward to have a word with him. They decide to simply leave him alone, hoping that he’s got friends to talk to if he needs it. 

But Miles isn’t wanting to talk to Matt and the others. He doesn’t know if he even can, or indeed if he would be right to. How the fuck is he supposed to explain everything that Ruth’s revealed to him? Alex is in trouble because of something that Miles started and the guilt of knowing that is forcing him to crumple and collapse into a heap of tears and snot and fear. 

What the fuck is she doing to Alex? Why the fuck would she openly admit the fact that she is keeping him in her basement, but not allow Miles to see him? This isn’t a joke, it can’t be. Miles feels certain that she’s not just messing with him. That look in her eyes had been one of pure insanity. She wouldn’t have been able to fake it. But even if he knows that all of this is true, she has still managed to toy with his mind, and to confuse him – manipulate him.

Miles pulls at his own hair and screams loudly into his pillow. His screams are muffled and his parents don’t hear it. He screams again and again, weeping miserably. Punching both fists into his mattress again and again, Miles loses it and throws a fit, kicking, crying, cursing himself.

What is he supposed to do? What the fuck is he supposed to do?! If he tells anyone and she ends up hurting Alex for it, Miles will have to live with that guilt for the rest of his life. But on the other hand: If he does nothing at all, she is still free to abuse him all she wants. How can Miles possibly make this decision on his own? How can he be solely responsible for trying to plan Alex’s rescue? 

Miles suddenly jumps out of bed and storms towards his window. Looking over at no. 13, he begins to feel physically ill. It’s so dark out there, it could have been in the middle of the night, and there are no lights coming from the basement. If Alex is truly down there, alone and locked up, he must be surrounded by darkness – by bleakness, kept out of the way like an animal. 

Miles touches the window’s glass with the tip of his fingers longingly, wishing to be with him, wishing to bring him back to safety. No matter how many times he tells himself to move away in case Terry sees him, he can’t help himself.

His desperation to be reunited with Alex is too big.

 

*

 

The following day, Miles is tense and nervous as he’s sat with the lads in the cafeteria. Every time Alex’s name is mentioned, it’s like the friggin’ Tell-Tale Heart; Miles just wants to jump to his feet and scream ‘I confess – I can’t take this anymore! I know where Alex is and all this time I’ve just been sitting on my hands!’ The guilt is tormenting him even further at the solemn expressions on his friends’ faces, the downwards looks, the anxious fidgeting, the coughs, the uncomfortable silences. 

He thinks that the lads must be able to hear the beating of his anxious, guilty heart. At this thought, Miles is tempted to remove himself from the circle and flee before they figure him out. He doesn’t want anyone to suspect that he’s involved in Alex’s absence, he doesn’t want to be branded as a coward, or as that appalling friend who couldn’t be bothered to take action. Alex’s suffering can’t be on him. It just can’t. Miles loves Alex more than anything. So why won’t he end this nightmare?

Miles clears his throat and is about to say something when Andy Nicholson slaps Jamie on the back and joins them at the table. 

“Did you guys hear?” Andy says to everyone around him, making Miles’s head spin. “A girl from our school told the police that she thinks she’s seen Alex yesterday. Supposedly she saw someone who looked a lot like him getting on a bus to Doncaster.”

“Someone who looked a lot like him?” Nick pulls an almost disgusted face. “How the fuck is that useful?”

“She described him as wearing sunglasses and a baseball cap, like he was trying not to get recognised. And apparently he wore a pair of grey trousers. I’ve seen Alex in grey trousers before.”

“How can she tell if he looked like Alex or not if he was disguising his face?” Nick points out, unimpressed.

“Also, are you suggesting that Alex has not only chosen to run off on his own without telling us, but that he is now going on holiday to bloody Doncaster as well?” Jamie growls. “Surely the police must have told her that she is wrong. She was probably just trying to get attention.”

“Actually,” Andy tells him, “the police are investigating her statement. They are looking through some CCTV footage, hoping to be able to identify the person she thinks she’s seen. I dunno, guys… Maybe there’s a small chance?”

“Fuck no!” Jamie responds angrily. “I’ve never heard such bullshit in my life! Who would Alex be hiding from anyway if he’s out there? He’s not some lunatic on the run from the police!”

“Forgive me,” sighs Andy after a moment, looking rather disappointed and defeated. “I dunno why I even brought it up. I guess I just wanted to… well, help you keep your hopes up.”

“Keep our hopes up?” This time, Matt is the one who’s speaking up. “How the fuck are we supposed to keep our hopes up when the truth is that Alex is most likely going to turn up as a dead body in the river? Or a dead body dug up from the woods?”

Everybody gasps at Matt’s outburst.

“Come on, man,” Jamie protests uncomfortably, “don’t go there…”

“You know that’s not true, Matt,” Nick chimes in, “Alex is not going to turn up dead.”

“Oh, that’s right!” Matt huffed. “I forgot! He might not even turn up at all! Ever! How the fuck is that any better, Nick?!”

“Matthew…” Andy mutters sadly. “Please don’t speak like that.”

“You know what,” Matt yells as he stands up from the table, “I am so done talking about this! I am so fucking sick and tired of having this debate every fucking day! Alex could lie dead somewhere and the sooner that you idiots realise that, the better it is for everyone!”

Matt makes a quick exit after that, but Miles runs after him.

“Matt!” Miles searches for him desperately. “Matt! Wait a minute!”

He catches up with him at the very end of the hallway; Matt has slumped himself against the wall and he’s pressing a hand over his eyes. When Miles steps closer, it becomes evident that he is crying furiously.

“Matt,” Miles speaks again, “it’s okay. Calm down, mate.”

“I can’t,” Matt gasps, heaving as he’s struggling to breathe, “I just – I can’t do this anymore! It’s driving me crazy…”

“I know,” Miles soothes him as he places a hand on his shoulder, “it’s okay.”

“No – no it’s not,” Matt sobs, wiping at his eyes, “it’s all my fault. I – I should have looked after him better. And now… Now I may never see him again. How the fuck am I supposed to live with that?”

“You couldn’t have looked after him better,” Miles assures him, “none of us could.” Miles pauses, thinking. “Alex isn’t dead.”

“How the fuck do you know that?” Matt hisses, releasing a shaky breath.

“I just do. Alex isn’t dead.”

This time, something in Miles’s voice has Matt stilling himself and he looks over at him almost suspiciously. 

“Wh-what are you saying, Kane?”

“Look, I can’t give you too many details. But Alex isn’t dead. Believe me. I – I am going to make this right. I am going to go after him.”

“What?!” Matt barks. “Miles, tell me what the fuck you are on about!”

“I am going to make it all right,” Miles says again, sounding like a broken record, “I am going to go after him. I – I will bring Alex back to us.”

Miles walks away, too absorbed in his own words.

“Miles!” Matt shouts furiously. “Miles! Get back here! Explain yourself!”

But Miles disappears around the corner and escapes before he can tell anybody what he knows.

 

*

 

Miles returns to no. 13 as soon as he can. This time, when Ruth opens the door, he wears a look of determination on his face, which seems to make her resent him slightly less.

“I want to see him,” Miles speaks before she can tell him to piss off, “I don’t care what you do to him. I’m not going to try and stop you. I just want to see him so that I know you’re telling the truth.”

Ruth smiles at this. 

“Perhaps you are finally beginning to understand that what I do is necessary?” She responds triumphantly. Then she appears to consider his request. “Alright. Do come in.” 

Miles is not offered a seat like last time. He’s left to stand in her hallway, feeling awkward and nervous with anticipation. Ruth begins to walk in a circle around him, looking Miles over without a word, watching his every move, listening to every panicked heartbeat. Perhaps she’s sensing that he’s putting it on; that he’s still not as brave as he fancies himself to be.

“Why are you here to see him?” She quizzes curiously, observing the way that Miles avoids her eyes. “You are not here because you feel sorry for him – are you?” 

“No,” Miles replies immediately, “I’m not here to intervene.”

“Are you here to enjoy his humiliation then?”

“I… I don’t take joy in other people’s misfortunes,” Miles utters lamely, swallowing hard.

“Still,” Ruth grins, “you’re angry, right? You must be angry with him. Because he did you wrong.”

Hesitating, Miles turns around to catch her looking at him.

“I don’t care enough about him to be angry,” Miles lies as casually as he can. “I’m only here to see that you are telling the truth.”

“I’m not going to let you see him unless you’re angry,” Ruth then bites at him, “I’m worried you will take pity on him.”

“I won’t.”

“Would you like him to kiss you again?”

“What?” Miles huffs. “No – of course not!” 

Ruth smiles at this. “Good.” Then she hollers from the top of her lungs: “Boys! Get down here!”

Miles shivers with dread at the sound of her sons rumbling down the stairs like thunder, making him think that the world is coming to an end. Terry, Harry and Perry stop dead at the sight of Miles and their mum talking; pulling spiteful faces at him, they truly have Miles wishing that there was another way, that he hadn’t had to come back to this house on his own. 

“What’s this loser doing here?” Terry complains immediately. “Why has he come back?”

Ruth ignores his question. Instead she gathers her attention on the two younger brothers.

“Henry, Percival,” she tells them, “I need you to go downstairs. Get him ready for us.”

Him? Miles’s heart skips a beat at those words. She’s talking about Alex. What does she mean by ‘get him ready’? What’s happening now? Ruth pulls out a key from her pocket and unlocks the door to the basement. Miles remembers vividly how desperately he was trying to get the door open and find Alex last time he was here. Harry and Perry disappear downstairs without a word, though they are grinning smugly. Suddenly, Miles feels nauseous. Sickened. All he wants to do is declare this a nightmare instead of reality.

“Is he – is he still down in your basement?” Miles forces himself to ask in a clear voice. “Have you been locking him up?”

“You can say that,” Ruth utters vaguely, though she regards Miles more cautiously now.

“And – and what have you been doing to him?” Miles prods further, pretending hard that his entire body isn’t trembling. 

“You will see for yourself in a moment,” Ruth sighs, ignoring Miles and giving Terry a significant look. Miles turns around again, wondering what it all means.

“Can I go down and see him now?” Miles finally asks, feeling so desperately impatient that he almost can’t keep up his façade any longer. “Please?”

“In a moment, you can,” Ruth replies almost dully, “however, there is something we need you to do first. Lift up your shirt!”

Fuck. Miles inhales sharply and feels his heart pounding with fear. Fuck, fuck, fuck!

“What?” He cries, pretending not to know. “Why?!”

But Ruth doesn’t have time for his little games.

“Terry!” She orders crossly. “Lift his shirt up for me!”

Miles screams and cries when he’s captured by that huge bully for a second time. Yanking and tearing at his shirt, Terry nearly rips it apart instead of pulling it up. Miles squirms and struggles to fight him off, but he’s never stood a chance against him.

“Aha!” Terry shouts triumphantly when Miles’s torso is bared. “There – we have him!”

Miles then knows that it’s over. Uncertain about the consequences that this is going to have for him, he closes his eyes and hangs his head. They have found the recorder that he’s strapped to his own chest in order to try and trick a confession out of these people. Having decided that he didn’t have the guts to go to the police without any evidence of Alex’s imprisonment, Miles had hoped to be able to play a recording of Ruth giving her own evil secrets away. After all, she has already admitted the whole thing to Miles once before, and he had sincerely hoped that she had been stupid enough to do it again.

Terry tears the tape off Miles’s skin and Miles gives a small cry. Then Terry presses down the play button on the recorder and Miles’s cry is immediately repeated.

“Interesting,” Ruth mutters calmly and it sounds like she isn’t surprised or outraged at all. “What happened to your little promise not to ‘intervene’ with my methods, boy?” She gives Miles a look of amusement. “You still pity my nephew, don’t you? You still don’t think he deserves his punishment.”

“He tried to set you up, Mum!” Terry fumes, awaiting an angry reaction from her. “He came here wearing a wire because he wants to expose you!”

“I know, dear,” Ruth replies coolly, “and that tells me that this young fellow still needs convincing. He isn’t on our side yet.”

“I will never be on your side!” Miles suddenly exclaims, though he had thought that he would have been too much of a coward. “What you’ve done is sick! Enough is enough, Ruth – this needs to end! Right now.”

“Oh, but we are only just getting started. Like I said, this boy still needs convincing,” Ruth smiles, “Terry, it’s time.”

“What?”

“It’s time to show him. Take him with you downstairs.”

“But Mum, he is trying to turn you in,” Terry complains with bewilderment. 

“I know, but he won’t succeed, will he? Just do as I say. Take him with you downstairs. It’s time for him to see what happens when you don’t play by my rules.”

 

*

 

Miles is powerless to escape the hold that Terry’s got on him. Leading him down the stairs slowly, but cruelly, Miles is shocked and terrified by the darkness that he’s met with. The only light that is shining dimly at the very bottom of the stairs is leaving long and distorted silhouettes on the white basement walls, and is furthermore making it impossible for Miles to see where he’s placing his feet. Miles trips and is about to stumble down the stairs when he is held upright by Terry’s massive hands. This may very well be the only ‘nice’ thing that Terry has ever done for anybody. 

“Where the fuck are you taking me?” Miles groans and struggles. “Let go of me!”

“You came to see him and so you shall!” Ruth announces peevishly, somewhere behind them. “Face it, son – there is no going back now.”

The floor is nothing but cold, hard concrete. It looks like there used to be some rugs down here, but that they have been removed. The walls are bare, though there are marks and outlines left from rectangular shapes; frames and pictures that have now been removed as well. There are a couple of additional lights and lamps installed to brighten up this creepy and manipulated space, but they appear to have been bashed to bits; the lampshades are nothing but broken pieces of glass and one of the hangers has been turned upside down, threatening to fall down from the wall at any moment.

Miles shivers. The room is cold and the air in here almost sticky. Suddenly, he wants to run and never come back again. Surely, Alex can’t be down here. They must be tricking him, messing with him, ridiculing him. They will all be laughing soon because Miles believed them in the first place. There is nothing down here except from a tiny room, which is taken up by a large freezer, a washing machine and some shelves full of tools and other equipment. That’s it. There’s nothing else here. Nothing. 

“You’ve tricked me,” Miles mutters before he can stop himself. His voice becomes a factual statement, mixed with obvious confusion. He’s not relieved to see that nothing is down here. The bewilderment scares him. “He’s not here.”

Ruth laughs loudly, causing Miles to jerk.

“You sound almost disappointed. I thought you were against my methods.”

Miles can’t help but to huff with sudden bravery. 

“Fuck you and your methods,” he tells her, “you were lying to me all along, weren’t you?”

She grins broadly, conceitedly. She is thinking very highly of herself as she takes him by surprise yet again and shouts:

“Time to show you what you’ve been missing all this time, boy!”

Then Miles sees it. There is a second door, which looks like it’s been painted over, camouflaged by the white walls. There is a small handle, a metal bar, to pull it open. Miles gulps. He cannot believe his own eyes. 

“Oh, now you see what we’re talking about,” Terry chortles evilly. “That’s right. Guess it’s all coming true now, innit, you arsehole?” 

Miles is frozen at first. Then he leaps towards the door, only to find that he is yanked backwards roughly as Terry clutches his arm.

“Not so fast,” Ruth tells him, “you will go after me. You must learn to wait for an invitation, for future reference.”

Miles can’t take this anymore.

“Alex!” He cries as Ruth tears the veiled door open. “ALEX!”

“Shut the fuck up,” Terry growls, digging his fingers into Miles’s flesh painfully.

“Come along,” Ruth speaks, ignoring Miles’s outburst. She enters and Miles is dragged along by Terry who seems to have no time to waste. There is a long hallway hidden behind this secret door. As Terry pushes Miles in front of him and forces him to walk ahead, Miles notices at least four different rooms, which all appear to have been locked; the chain locks are shimmering and reflecting the light brightly into Miles’s weary eyes, reminding him that something utterly sinister must be going on down here. 

Miles releases a small scream and struggles against Terry’s hands.

“What the fuck is this place?!” He gasps. “Alex! Alex, where are you?!”

But he only has to wait for so long. Ruth is walking down to the back of the hallway, pausing in front of a door at the very end. 

Miles’s heart skips a beat.

She shoves the door open with her elbow, nodding her head at Terry.

“Let him in,” she says.

Miles is pushed forwards once again. He stumbles and lands on his knees, hard. The room is cold and bare. The floor is nothing but hard concrete. There are no windows. There is only a singular light bulb dangling from the ceiling, making all the shadows dance as it sways gently, back and forth. The room has been cleared and emptied completely. There are bolts and hooks drilled into the walls from which chains and shackles are attached. 

The room is utterly empty. Miles takes another look around him and supresses his own screams by biting his tongue until he tastes blood. He is about to ask for Alex when Ruth joins him and walks further into the room, making space for something. 

“Henry, Percival, my darlings,” she hums excitedly, “bring him to us! We are ready.”

Terry and herself step up behind Miles. Miles raises himself from his knees slowly, in time to see two large figures walking in the door. They are too broad to step over the threshold simultaneously; their broad shoulders get caught in the doorway. They are carrying something in between them. Holding on to an arm each, they are dragging a much smaller, much leaner body along with them, barely allowing him to walk as his feet are hardly even touching the ground.

They’ve placed a fabric bag over his head, but Miles recognises the skinny limbs, the pale skin, the narrow waist. 

“Alex!” He cries and suddenly, Terry wraps an arm around his throat, keeping him from running towards him. “Oh God – no! ALEX! What are you doing? Let go of him!”

No one reacts to Miles’s pleas. 

Harry and Perry drag their prisoner further into the room and it isn’t their cruel handling of him, which has Miles’s knees quivering under him; it’s the way that Alex doesn’t struggle. He’s allowing them to carry him towards the wall like it’s become a well-known procedure. He does nothing to stop them. He does nothing to try and escape. Only as they reach the wall do they let go of him, letting him fall to the floor brutally.

Miles discovers that Alex’s hands are handcuffed behind his back. The small figure falls to the ground miserably without even trying to soften his own landing. And he remains sat there, waiting for them to harass him further.

“ALEX!” Miles whines with the tears prickling in his eyes. Then Terry silences him by placing his colossal hand over his mouth, grunting like he’s sick of hearing the other’s cries. 

The bag is removed from Alex’s head by Harry. Miles gasps and whimpers when he sees that Alex has been gagged viciously; they’ve wrapped his mouth, his jaw, his neck in gaffa tape and Miles can only imagine that they’ve used something else to stuff his mouth with, muffling his every attempt at speaking. Alex's face is even whiter than the rest of his body, except from the dark bruises, which are still showing on his skin. His eyes are turned downwards, ignoring the spectators surrounding him. His stare is empty. Hollow. Soulless. Beaten. His shoulders are slumped and he keeps still, remaining totally passive. 

Perry takes advantage of his submission. Reaching for one of the chains bolted into the wall, he tightens a large tether around Alex’s throat and neck, locking it in order to keep him in place and keep him from moving. Any movement from Alex and the chain will tighten and add pressure around his throat, restricting him, choking him. Alex remains calm, however. He doesn’t struggle against his handcuffs, nor does he produce a single sound. He’s wearing a white t-shirt which has been stained with old, dried-up spots of blood at the very neck, and a pair of black, worn-out jeans, ripped at both knees. He hasn’t been granted any shoes or socks. He must be freezing cold.

“Up against the wall,” Harry orders him with a sneer and though Alex obeys and struggles to move himself backwards and further up against the wall behind him, Harry still yanks at the chain, pulling him back so forcibly that he ends up choking him for a second. Alex releases a small noise of pain, though he doesn’t protest. Miles on the other hand groans furiously against Terry’s hand, objecting to this treatment with all his might, though it’s useless. Ruth and her sons are free to do whatever they want and there is nothing that Miles can do to stop them.

“Look at him,” Ruth chuckles suddenly, to Miles, “pathetic, isn’t he?”

Spurred on by his mother’s laughter, Harry takes in the sight of Alex sitting on the cold, hard ground, at his feet and at his mercy, helpless, bound and manacled.

“Look at me,” he speaks in a rush of power and control, frowning at the way Alex keeps his head down as though he’s ignoring them altogether, “I said look at me, you little bitch!”

Giving Alex no time to obey, he slaps him across the cheek and much to his disappointment, Alex does not make a sound. Reluctantly, Alex looks up at him defiantly; his eyes are dull, yet blazing with accusation. 

“Let’s rip this off,” Perry jumps in, already tearing at the gaffa tape wrapped around Alex’s mouth and chin, tearing it off as meanly as he can, letting it pull at Alex’s skin, “it’s no fun when you can’t hear him begging.”

Harry grins, assisting his brother in removing the tape and eventually pulling out a small flannel from Alex’s mouth, which has been used to mute and stifle him. Alex coughs miserably and the brothers laugh and make fun of him when the gaffa tape has left his skin all pink and tender. 

“Are we comfy yet, princess?” Terry mocks him from where he’s stood behind Miles, restricting him from coming to Alex’s rescue. “You fucking queer. Aren’t you even going to take a look at who’s here to see you? Aren’t you even going to say hi?”

Miles breathes hard against Terry’s palm. Alex is still not looking over at him. 

“M’sorry, Miles,” he then hears Alex mutter in a broken voice, which is hard to recognise after all this time, “you – you shouldn’t have come here…”

Miles sobs against Terry’s sweaty flesh. He hasn’t stopped watching Alex, not for a second. However, at the sound of his voice, the tears are blinding Miles and everything becomes one big blur. He blinks furiously, trying to clear his sight. The image of Alex sitting there in front of him, chained and defeated, is breaking his heart and crushing all his hope. He tries to communicate back, but Terry’s hold is too tight – he doesn’t allow him to offer Alex a single word of comfort.

“He’s not here to help you, you little idiot,” Ruth laughs, amused by the entire situation, “he’s here to watch. We are going to humiliate you in front of him. Just wait and see.”

“That’s right,” Perry agrees in order to please his mother. Slapping Alex’s cheek harder than Harry did, he looks satisfied when he causes Alex to release a small groan, after which he winces. “We are going to make you regret your own evil nature. We are going to make you wish that you were never born.”

Alex doesn’t respond to this. Keeping his mouth shut, he continues to avoid everyone’s stares. He does not wish to add fuel to the fire. 

“Still quiet, eh?” Harry complains, tugging hard at Alex’s hair once before letting go of him, wiping his hand in his shirt like he’s just touched something gross. “We’ll make you break your silence. We are going to put on a little show for your friend to see.”

“How would you like us to make you scream in front of him? Or cry?” Perry kicks Alex in the hip with his shoe. “Should we make you cry for your Mummy and Daddy right in front of your friend? How fun would that be?”

“I’d like to see that,” Terry chimes in, laughing in Miles’s ear.

“Here,” Ruth gives Perry her blessing as she lights one of her cigarettes and hands it over to him, “give it your best, my dear. I should record him in the meantime.” She takes out the small recorder that she caught Miles wearing upon his arrival. “That way we can replay his screams, over and over again. It would be sweet.”

Miles begins to struggle harder. Pushing against Terry, he fights like crazy to intervene and to stop this madness. Moaning and complaining loudly, Miles is spilling his tears all over Terry’s hand, shaking vigorously.

Perry takes a drag from the cigarette, exhaling the smoke right in Alex’s face. 

“Do you remember the time when one of your low-life friends thought it would be funny to burn me with a ciggy?” He asks grinningly, because at this moment, everybody knows what’s going to happen. “I have been wanting to take my revenge ever since. That’s only fair, don’t you think?”

He lets the cigarette hover in front of Alex’s face teasingly. Alex doesn’t even blink. 

“Fucking tart,” Harry whinges when they fail to scare him. “Just do it, Perry – burn him good!”

Perry smirks disgustingly as he begins to press the glowing cigarette butt down against the skin on Alex’s chest. Alex jerks immediately and screws his face up in intense pain, but for some reason, he manages to keep quiet. Harry holds him steadied when he begins to wriggle and squirm in order to escape the pain; they are not letting him off this easily.

“Do you feel that, huh? Do you feel that burn?” Perry gloats, moving his face closer towards Alex’s, taking pleasure in his obvious suffering. “Come on now, let us hear you scream!”

The cigarette is pressed against Alex’s skin even harder, lingering where it has already started to burn through his skin, destined to leave him with a horrible scar. Alex twists and turns desperately, though it’s impossible for him to make it stop. Miles watches him in horror; Alex is biting his lip stubbornly, refusing to give in and let them rejoice in hearing his cries. He is kicking his legs frantically, trembling, his forehead suddenly soaked with sweat.

“Oh, he’s playing tough in front of his friend, isn’t he?” Terry muses. “All the other times we’ve barely even touched him and he’s been screaming like a little girl.”

“That’s because he is a little girl,” Harry supplements, “ha-ha-ha.”

Miles hears Ruth chuckling happily. He’s never before witnessed anything this sick in his entire life. Not even in films, or in books. This is beyond him – beyond his understanding.

Alex is panting heavily and though he’s pretty much showing his defeat and his pain by convulsing in Harry’s arms, he is still not allowing himself to scream or cry, and so, Perry grunts with annoyance and gives up. 

“Fine,” he sighs, pulling back briefly, “you want it rough, do you now? I can be rough. I can humiliate you in more ways than you think.”

Prying Alex’s mouth open with his bare hands, Perry curses and kicks him again when Alex grunts angrily and attempts to bite him. Getting Harry to grip his jaw, hence forcing Alex to part his lips, Perry somehow manages to shove the burning cigarette into his mouth, pressing it against the inside of Alex’s cheek and finally causing the smaller lad to wail with agony and horror, fighting hard as he tenses and panics. Laughing sadistically at his own cousin’s anguish, Perry takes satisfaction in having won a new battle, and he drops the cigarette, letting it fall unto Alex’s tongue. Suddenly clenching Alex’s mouth shut with both hands, Harry howls with laughter as Alex throws his head back and forth madly, tussling desperately to be freed so that he can spit it out and release himself from the burning pain.

“Woah-ho,” Terry hoots, cheering his younger brothers on, “there we go! He’s really missed smoking, hasn’t he? Make him swallow the ciggy!”

But after another moment of fierce struggling, Alex whimpers loudly as he finally manages to remove himself from Harry’s hands. Crying intensely as he spits the damn thing out, Alex coughs and gags horrendously. Miles’s eyes widen with shock when he sees that Alex is spitting blood and that he has succeeded in putting the cigarette out with his tongue. Spitting out the remains of the ashes, caked in the blood from his fresh new burn wounds, Alex continues to moan and cry in agony while the blood drips and trails down from his bottom lip.

“Disgusting,” Ruth giggles as though she is praising her sons’ good work, “he really does make a scene like a little girl, doesn’t he?”

“I’ll shut him up if you want me to, Mum,” Perry says with pride, towering over Alex dangerously, “I’ll kick the living shit out of him, I’ll-“

Perry is interrupted by Terry’s sudden screaming. In a moment of inattentiveness, Terry has loosened his hold over Miles’s mouth and Miles has grown so appalled and furious with them, he’s bitten his palm as hard as he can. 

“Son of a bitch!” Terry cries, pushing Miles to the floor instantly. “You are going to regret that, you little creep!”

Miles has been meaning to jump in and save Alex, but now he finds himself cowering at Terry’s feet, watching the much larger man raise his fist, getting ready to smack the teeth out of his skull.

“Terrence, no!” Ruth stops him last second, tearing herself away from the joy of watching Alex’s torments. “Don’t touch him – he’s our guest after all! Don’t you understand? He isn’t here as our prisoner. He is here as part of that little brat’s punishment!”

“What?” Terry utters with confusion. “What are you talking about, Mum? What do we even need him for?”

Ruth smiles evilly as she watches Miles watching Alex with concern.

“I’m serious – don’t lay a finger on him,” she repeats strictly, “we do need him. We need him to be on our side, remember.” 

“Why?” Harry questions impatiently. “What can we possibly gain from having him on our side?”

At this, Ruth shakes her head slowly, like it’s them being ignorant for not having figured out her masterplan yet.

“Can’t you see, boys?” She sing-songs enthusiastically. “We can punish that rascal for eternities to come,” she explains, gesturing towards Alex who is still struggling to recover, “which is all well and good. But if we get him,” she points her finger at Miles as she still doesn’t have a name for him, “if we get him, the friend who exposed your cousin’s sordidness, to join us, a slap from him could hurt that little bastard ten times worse than we ever could. He could help us break his spirit. Isn’t that what we all want?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do apologise for all these cliffhangers. I promise I'm not doing it on purpose haha xx


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miles struggles to protect Alex against Ruth's punishments. In the meantime, Ruth continues to try and persuade Miles to become her friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Descriptions of heavy violence and homophobic language!
> 
> Alex isn't doing so well, so please don't read if you can't handle these themes of violence and punishment!
> 
> Thank you for reading xx

Miles cries in protest when Terry pulls him back up on his feet.

“Let go of me, you – you juggernaut!” 

For a moment, Miles feels certain that Terry is going to snap his neck for the insult. But instead, he drags him forward roughly. Dropping him down to the floor again, Miles lands on his knees pitifully, right before Alex. Unaware of their plan, Miles leaps forward, reaching out for his friend.

“Alex!” He whimpers, watching the blood that has started to dry on the other’s chin. Alex is sweating and shivering with pain from his burn wounds. But he’s finally there, right in front of Miles’s hand, to touch, to feel, to comfort, after everyone’s been left to wonder what happened to him for so long. But despite having found him, Miles can’t make things right. And he knows that. “Alex,” he whispers, stricken with horror, “I’m – I’m so sorry…”

Alex is finally looking up at him. As their eyes meet, there is such a powerful look of fear and desperation in those big, brown eyes that Miles has looked into hundreds of times before, and the comprehension of Alex’s agony is shattering Miles’s heart to pieces instantly. What have they done to him? He’s chained and beaten like a fucking animal, and their rough handling of him has left him trembling with dread. Even though Alex is now returning Miles’s stare, he isn’t saying anything. They have fucking threatened him to silence.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Perry suddenly interferes, slapping Miles’s hand away before he can touch Alex. “Do you really think we’re here to watch some faggot-on-faggot action? How disgusting!” 

“You sick motherfucker,” Harry huffs, pulling a face. “Why would you even touch someone as filthy as him?” He then makes a sound from deep within his throat before spitting at them both; most of his spittle landing on Alex’s jeans, right above the rip by his knees. “See? He’s fucking filthy!” 

Miles glares up at them both in outrage, too stunned to say anything.

“Now, boys,” Ruth intervenes from behind them, “is that really how you want to treat our guest? Remember, he’s the victim. Not the offender.” 

“Although he did come in here wearing a wire,” Terry adds, unimpressed. “Don’t expect him to work with us.”

“That’s because we have yet to persuade him that we’re on his side,” Ruth says coolly, “and in time, he will see that he ought to be on ours, too.”

Miles forces himself to tear his attention away from Alex.

“Are you completely delusional?” He snaps, incensed by her statement. “You’re not on my side, and I sure as hell won’t ever be on yours!”

Ruth laughs at this, stepping closer. 

“Don’t be so certain about that. I’m offering you a chance to take revenge on him.” She grimaces at Alex, taking in her own nephew’s vulnerability. “He did you wrong. He took advantage of you, didn’t he? He did something sinful to you. Well, here’s your chance, boy. Show him that you’re angry.”

Terry smiles with anticipation, lining himself up next to his ugly mother like a fucking bodyguard, getting ready for a show.

“He’s not the one I’m fucking angry with!” Miles bursts out, unable to help himself. How dare she? Who the fuck does this woman think she is? “Look at what you’ve done to him!” Miles shouts. “You don’t call that sinful?!”

“I call it necessary,” Ruth replies without sympathy. “Don’t fall for his puppy eyes, lad. He only wants you to feel sorry for him. He’s not as innocent as he seems. He knows that he’s done something terribly wrong.”

“Yeah,” Perry breaks in, pulling at the tether around Alex’s neck, forcing his head back, “it’s not our fault that he can’t take the consequences like a man.”

“Let go!” Miles finds himself yelling when Alex wheezes, struggling to breathe. “You’re strangling him!”

Snatching at Perry’s hand in order to free Alex, Miles growls like a feral beast, overwhelmed with his own wrath. Even when he springs to his feet and attacks Perry, who merely laughs and yanks Alex’s chain even harder, he is so blinded by rage that he forgets that this is a battle he won’t win. Despite the fact that there is zero chance of Miles hurting a big guy like Percival Sharpe, he is immediately stopped and pulled back by Harry, after which he is thrown to the ground brutally. Miles smashes his chin against the hard floor and groans groggily. However, he isn’t given any time to lick his wound.

“Cut that out, you little knob,” Terry hisses, putting Miles in a headlock as he drags him into a sitting position. “Just be grateful our mother has been kind enough to spare you.”

“Kind?!” Miles sputters, fighting madly to wrestle him off him. “Hah! Your mother is the evillest bitch I’ve ever met!”

The slap doesn’t come from Terry, but from Ruth herself. Though he shouldn’t be surprised, part of Miles had actually believed her when she had sworn that no one was to lay a finger on him.

“Let that be a warning to you, you ungrateful, little bastard,” Ruth utters from in between clenched teeth, “don’t you ever disrespect me like that! Or else I won’t stop my sons from using you as a punching bag in the future!” 

Miles frowns and swallows hard. His cheek is stinging painfully, but after all, he’s lucky that the slap came from her and not from any of her sons whose hands are all big like loafs of bread.

“Yeah,” Terry growls dangerously as he suddenly gives Miles a mighty shake, “don’t you ever talk about my mum that way. I’ll fucking castrate you! I’ll tear your fucking junk off and make you eat it!”

Miles grunts as he’s shoved back and forth by Terry, but he refuses to apologise.

“He doesn’t look that sorry to me,” Harry remarks, watching Miles’s stubborn expression. “Perhaps he doesn’t understand how serious we are.”

“Oh, but he’s gonna,” Ruth utters full of menace, “if he’s going to stay here as our guest, he’s damn well going to work for his privileges. His right for protection doesn’t come for free.”

“I don’t fucking want to stay here!” Miles shrieks in between Terry’s pushes. “I’m not your fucking guest! This isn’t a hotel, you lunatic! This is a fucking prison! You better let me and Alex go right now, or else-“

“Or else what, douchebag?” Terry cuts him off, shaking him even harder, making Miles believe he’s going to suffer a concussion. “What exactly are you going to do to us? You have no power here.”

Someone’s laughing behind his back, probably Perry or Harry, but Miles can’t tell as he’s too busy fighting for balance.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Ruth then decides, sniggering, “let him go before he starts to cry. You know I hate cry-babies.” 

Terry lets go of him. Dizzy and wobbly, Miles nearly falls back down to the ground, though a particularly strong effort to save himself some dignity enables him to stay upright. The room is dancing before his eyes for a moment, but Miles snaps out of it with haste. After all, he has to pull himself together for Alex. 

“Pathetic,” Perry huffs with hilarity, “he’s almost as frail as little Allie here.”

Miles spins around when he hears Alex whimpering excruciatingly. Perry has kicked him right below his ribs, in that very delicate area which Miles had forced Alex to expose to him just over a week ago. After having seen the bruises that they’d planted so cruelly down Alex’s flank, Miles knows for certain that his injuries haven’t had enough time to heal. Seeing as Alex’s hands are still handcuffed behind his back, there is no way for Alex to protect himself against the blow.

“Stop it!” Miles goes ballistic when he sees Alex crumbling for a second time. “You son of a bitch! How dare you do that to someone who’s defenceless? He’s your own fucking flesh and blood!”

Terry pulls him back by the neck of his shirt before he can do anything to interfere. 

“You’re right,” Ruth suddenly interjects, “why have Percival doing the hard work when you could take over for him?” She giggles lazily. “Did you hear me, boy? I said I would like to see you take a swing at him now!”

“Shut up!” Miles spits, sickened with her callousness. “You know I’m not doing that!”

“It wasn’t a question,” Terry barks, already shoving Miles in front of him, “do as you’re told!”

“Fuck off!” Miles retorts, wishing Terry hadn’t been so much bigger and stronger than the average bloody person. “I said no – I’m not doing anything you ask me!”

“Careful, turd-face,” Harry breaks in, seizing Miles’s collar and taking over from his brother, “you’re on thin ice as it is. Punch him!”

Miles is swiftly rammed into Alex as he is shoved to the floor. As Alex has drawn his knees to his chest, Miles falls against his legs and ends up breaking his fall by grasping at the shoulder of a fragile body that is in no position to be Miles’s rock. Suddenly looking into Alex eyes with alarm, Miles releases a shaky breath. Alex seems so small underneath him, so exposed. They both tense immediately, sensing that something out of their control is going to come at them.

“Alex,” Miles murmurs with grief, watching his friend freezing with fear, “it’s going to be okay. I promise. You know I’m not gonna hurt you.”

“Yes you are!” Harry persists, grasping a handful of Miles’s hair, pulling him apart from Alex. “It’s what Mum told you to do, so do it!”

Holding Miles steadied, Harry waits for his mother to back him up. Ruth approaches them confidently, taking her time. Her short stature shouldn’t be intimidating to a seventeen-year-old lad likes Miles himself, but still, her presence always has his teeth clattering slightly. She’s erratic. Unstable. Utterly mental.

“Henry, darling, take his hand,” Ruth orders in a mock-tone, “perhaps he needs a little guidance.” 

Harry steals Miles’s hand and clenches around his wrist painfully. Miles pulls a face and tussles against him, panicking when he feels Harry’s intention. Lifting Miles’s hand and forcing it to hover over Alex, getting ready to deliver a harsh smack, Harry laughs as Miles yells with fury. At the prospect of being the very cause of Alex’s ongoing torment, Miles uses all his strength to resist and to squirm until, finally, he wins his first battle and withdraws his hand before he is forced to perform the unspeakable crime.

“Suit yourself,” Ruth utters darkly and bitterly. “If you can’t follow a simple instruction, we are simply going to have to keep you here until you’ve learned to cooperate. Boys – show him how it’s done!”

“What?” Miles gasps, but it’s too late. He’s powerless to stop them. “No! Don’t!”

They are all over Alex like lions tearing down an unaided antelope on the savannah. Surrounding him completely, they push Miles out of the way before he can try and stop them. Once again, Ruth stands back with a smile on her face, letting her sons do as they please. Terry initiates the whole thing by slapping Alex’s face so hard that he tilts over and is only prevented from falling to the ground by the tether pressing against his throat. Whimpering and unable to upright himself, Alex is then pulled forward by Perry who knees him in the stomach with the brutal, heartless intention of breaking him completely. Alex is left winded and gasping for air. Unable to even wrap his arms around himself, he is forced to receive a second kick to the exact same area. Though it is making him double over with a groan, Alex once again demonstrates his ability to not buckle under. It’s Miles who’s left to do the begging and pleading, not him.

“No!” Miles cries, scratching desperately at chubby backsides that refuse to move aside for him. “You evil bastards! You can’t do this to him!”

Ignoring Miles completely, Harry hollers with laughter as he kicks his much smaller cousin in the back, hooting at the way Alex remains chained to the wall, unable to escape. 

“Take that, you little bitch!” He grins manically, bashing his knee against Alex’s jaw next in an attempt to make him look up from the floor. Alex falls forward, dangerously close to losing his grip. As he continues to double over, Harry suddenly raises his foot and kicks him straight in the chest, thrusting him back against the wall so violently that Alex bangs the back of his head and finally whines in protest.

“Oh, you’re not so brave now, are you, Allie?” Terry exclaims gleefully as the younger boy falls even weaker. “How does it feel to know that your boyfriend over here refuses to rescue you?”

“Stop it,” Miles bellows, struggling frantically to push in between them and get to Alex, “he’s done nothing to deserve this – I won’t let you do this to him!”

“Then slap him,” Ruth replies with unexpected eagerness, believing she can pressure Miles into obedience, “slap him for me, and it will all be over!”

“What?” Miles croaks with annoyance. “No! I can’t-“

“Fine,” Perry interrupts him impatiently, delivering a nasty hit to Alex’s ribs, “we’ll do it for you. Over and over and over again…”

The blows multiply quickly and Alex squirms and cries as he’s assaulted all over; unable to dodge the slaps, the kicks, the punches, he begins to scream in agony and the sound is piercing its way through Miles’s heart. 

“Make them stop!” Miles begs in desperate anguish and despair, turning to Ruth as a last resort. She alone is able to control her sons like machinery. How cruel that the only person they’ll listen to is a complete whack job… Miles doesn’t stand a chance in appealing to her common sense. “Please! I’ll do anything!” He supplicates anxiously, his voice all fraught and wobbly.

“You’ve had your chance, boy,” she shoots him down pitilessly, even offering him a malicious smirk. “Perhaps you will abide by my orders next time.”

Alex’s screams grow increasingly urgent as he receives yet another kick to his bruised flank.

“You monster!” Miles roars, flaring up with fierce anger as he absolutely loses himself. Storming forward and throwing himself at Ruth in order to lash out at the bitch who is behind all of this, Miles takes brief pleasure in the look of alarm and astonishment on the shorter woman’s face. However, before he can even get to her, he feels someone coming up behind him, fast, hitting his temple hard and aggressively. 

“Stay the fuck away from our Mum!” Someone shouts at him, but Miles barely hears it.

His entire head is buzzing, spinning. His vision is blurring and he barely even registers the way that he falls to his knees with impact and confusion. 

“You fucking bell-end,” the voice continues, hitting him across the head again, “I ought to kill you…”

Miles falls to the ground slowly, blinking as he is about to black out. When he keeps still, too shaken to move and too faint to cling unto consciousness, his offenders must have decided not to waste their breaths on him. Returning to Alex instead, the last thing Miles senses before passing out completely, is the way that Alex sobs and snivels as the three brothers kick the living shit out of him for God knows how long.

Miles’s eyes roll back in his head and he falls limp, powerless to stop any of it.

 

*

 

There is a rattle from keys working their way into the door. The lock makes a sound as it is opened and the door creaks as it is pushed ajar. Miles blinks and turns his head to the side, sensing the cold and hard surface underneath him that doesn’t feel familiar at all. For a moment, he can’t remember where he is. He’s feeling sore. He’s got a splitting headache, which is worrying in itself, but it’s the sense of unfamiliarity and strangeness, which gets to him first.

Then he hears a person entering the room, the footsteps slow and heavy. At the sound of Ruth’s dull voice, Miles jerks as it all comes back to him:

“I saw you blink. I know that you’re awake.”

Miles’s eyes snap open instantly and he releases a small groan. His heart begins to race as he recognises the dark, empty basement that he’s in. Oh fuck. What’s happened to him? How long has he been out for? Struggling hard to sit himself upright, his head is pounding and his heart drops at the realisation that his hands have been tied together behind his back like Alex’s. 

Alex. Miles quickly takes a look around him and finds that Alex has been lying about ten feet away from him, by the wall. The tether has been removed from his throat, but he’s still handcuffed. He’s lying on his side, soundlessly and motionlessly, with his back turned on Miles. 

“Alex!” Miles exclaims, ignoring Ruth’s presence. As he struggles to get up without the use of his hands, he begins to crawl on his knees as he’s anxious to know if he’s okay.

“He’s not awake,” Ruth mutters as though it hardly matters when she sees Miles’s effort to check up on him. “Don’t bother. Now, I came to-“

“How could you?!” Miles cuts her off in a broken voice, absolutely devastated as he hovers over his friend with concern. There is nothing he wouldn’t give to be able to roll Alex onto his back and examine him gently. Though it’s hard to tell in the dark room, with Alex facing away from him, it looks like he’s been bleeding from his nose and from his split bottom lip. The skin by his neck and chest looks discoloured, though it is the burn wound that Miles concentrates on the most. It looks absolutely horrific. He immediately worries that it is going to get infected. Miles nudges Alex carefully with his hip, but there is no reaction. If it wasn’t for the shallow wheezing sounding from Alex’s chest every time he takes a breath, Miles would have assumed him to be dead. He’s pale enough to be, and just from remembering his screams, Miles knows for a fact that he must be absolutely battered. “He’s hurt – he’s unconscious!” Miles whines with accusation. “What the fuck have you done to him?”

“He’s a very weak boy,” Ruth remarks indifferently, “he always has been. Even in his mother’s womb was he brittle. I remember. Penny kept believing she was having a miscarriage.” Ruth snorts. “My boys on the other hand… They clung onto my body from the beginning ‘till the end. I never had to worry about them not surviving their own births.”

Miles wants to gag at that image, but for once, he couldn’t care less about her taunting.

“Please,” Miles hears himself begging, “untie my hands. I have to help him.”

“Sure,” Ruth chuckles with sarcasm, “what’s next, boy? Do you want me to give you a ride to the hospital, too?” She laughs briefly. “Oh, come on. What did you expect?”

“He may have suffered serious trauma!” Miles utters with fury. “You can’t just leave him here on the concrete floor! He needs to lie in a bed, he needs medicine, he needs a doctor…”

“He should be grateful that we’re even allowing him to stay in this house,” Ruth intervenes spitefully. “We don’t owe him anything. He hasn’t done anything to deserve help. I don’t know why you’re so bothered with his comfort.”

“His comfort?!” Miles snaps. “This isn’t about comfort! This is about his human rights! You can’t keep him trapped down here like this. You can’t keep abusing him, pretending that this is all normal. I could turn you and your sons in if you’re not careful. You would all get locked up for what you’ve done.”

Miles fights against the restraints around his wrists, trying to twist himself and reach for his pocket. Grunting and struggling visibly, he has Ruth interrupting:

“I hope you’re not looking for your phone in there, lad. You didn’t think I was actually going to let you keep it, did you?” Ruth pauses when Miles gives her an angered stare. “I told Henry to destroy it while you were out, and get rid of the evidence. I don’t want the police to be able to track your phone and trace down your location once you’re reported missing. If they find out where you are, they are going to ruin my plans.”

Miles’s eyes widen with disbelief.

“You’re serious? You are actually going to keep me here?” He feels himself tensing with shock, but it still seems unreal to him. He can’t fathom the gravity of her words. “I thought you said I was a victim. That – that you wouldn’t hurt me.”

“And I meant it,” Ruth insists, “but that doesn’t mean I can just let you go free. I’m not an idiot. I can tell that you’re not ready to join us yet. If I let you go free now, you wouldn’t think twice about blowing our cover. I can’t trust you.”

“But,” Miles finds himself stammering, suddenly terrified that he’s never going to get out of here alive, “but what if I promise not to tell anyone? You could let both me and Alex go… We wouldn’t involve the police. We just – we just want to be let out.”

Ruth smirks, sensing Miles’s desperation.

“He’s not going anywhere, I can assure you that,” she says with a shake of her head, “and something tells me that you’re willing to tell me any lie I need to hear. Because you’re a coward. You have no understanding of my duty to punish my nephew, and yet you are so busy trying to persuade me that I’m wrong. I can’t let you go, son. Not until you see things from my point of view.”

“But – but my parents are going to wonder why I haven’t come home,” Miles pants, feeling himself welling up, “they are going to be searching for me. Right now. They have probably already called the police.”

“Which is why I’m going to need you to do me a favour first thing in the morning,” Ruth replies. “You are going to write a letter, explaining to your parents that you have run away from home. You are going to tell them to stop looking for you. You are going to tell them that everything is alright and that they shouldn’t involve the police.”

“No,” Miles utters hoarsely, swallowing thickly, “no, I – I can’t. My parents wouldn’t believe it for a moment. They know I’d never run away on my own like that.”

“Then tell them that you’re running away because you’re looking for him,” Ruth’s eyes move towards Alex who is still lying unresponsive on the floor, “I don’t care what you have to write to make them believe you. Just do it.”

Miles is beginning to find it hard to breathe. He’s panicking because he knows that he’s screwed up. He’s lost control of the situation and left Ruth completely in charge. What on earth is this going to mean for him and Alex?

“You’ll never get away with it,” he utters madly, blinking away his tears, “my parents live just next door to here. Do you really not think they would come here looking for me?”

“I don’t know,” Ruth shrugs, “and I don’t care. If they do, I’ll find a way to get rid of them, anyway. Don’t worry, boy. In time you’ll see that this isn’t so bad. You’ll come to understand that I’m only keeping you here because we need you. You’re part of his punishment, remember.”

“No… please,” Miles pleads humiliatingly, “please, don’t do this.”

“I have to.”

“No! No, you don’t. Please – Alex is innocent. You can’t keep hurting him like this. What if… What if he can’t make it down here?”

“Then he’ll die for a better cause,” Ruth responds without blinking, “but hopefully he’ll get to redeem himself first.”

“No,” Miles whimpers, clenching his eyes shut, “just, please – please, untie me. Let me help him. He’s injured. You know he is.”

“Not yet,” Ruth says dismissively, “I came down to let you know that dinner is ready. I’ve set the table for five people. I told you, you are here as our guest, not as our prisoner. You should come eat with us. You won’t be given the chance again later tonight.”

Miles’s jaw drops. Is she actually insane? If she actually expects him to hold hands and say grace at the dinner table with them, she’s far crazier than first assumed. 

“How can you even be talking about dinner?” Miles shouts bitterly. “Don’t you get it? I’m not your fucking guest when you’re keeping me against my will! I don’t want your fucking food!”

“That’s what he used to say,” Ruth laughs, gesturing towards Alex, “until I finally cut him off and refused to serve him anything. Now he keeps begging me to feed him.”

The blood runs cold in Miles’s body, but he can hardly believe her to be serious. She’s trying to manipulate him again. She’s trying to wind him up.

“If I agree to eat at your table, you have to save some for him as well,” Miles bargains, suddenly putting Alex’s health above his own pride, “and you have to let me help him. You have to untie my hands.”

“Oh, son,” she speaks with amusement, sighing loudly, “you’re in no position to negotiate with me. But if you follow me upstairs without complaining, I might just show you how kind I can be.”

 

*

 

Miles is ushered out from the small prison-like room and out from the basement, only to be seized by Terry as he makes his way upstairs and into Ruth’s hall. As Terry clutches onto his arm and guides him towards the dinner table in the kitchen, Miles can see why they don’t trust him to make the walk on his own; the front door is right there in front of him. Miles’s big opportunity to escape. It wouldn’t take him long to cause a distraction and run for it. He could make it back to his parents’ house in less than a minute. But with his hands tied, he wouldn’t know how to work the lock. And there’s no way that Terry would be so reckless around him as to let him break free that easily.

“Forget about it, dickhead,” Terry grunts when he sees what Miles is suddenly staring at so longingly, “don’t try anything funny. My mum’s bought a stun gun. You wouldn’t want her to have to use it on you, would you?”

Miles doesn’t respond to this, but he catches Ruth smiling. 

“Let’s not create any tension between us at the dinner table,” she jokes nastily, “come on, right this way. Sit yourself down.”

Miles is shoved inside the kitchen by Terry. There is an unsettling sensation running through his body when he sees that the curtains have been drawn together tightly, preventing anyone from looking in through the window. He is baffled by the way that Ruth has set a table almost like a traditional housewife, though she’s anything but. In the centre of the table, she’s placed a big casserole, inviting everyone to dig in. An extra plate has been put out for Miles. By each plate, she’s placed a can of cheap pop, the supermarket’s own brand. By her own plate, she’s left her cigarettes.

Harry and Perry both enter the room suddenly, running past Miles in order to take their seats and get started. Greedily, they both begin to fill up their plates excessively, unbothered to wait for everyone else.

Sensing Miles’s hesitation, Ruth points to the chair across from Harry.

“Here’s your seat, boy. Sit down.”

Miles obeys, though he doesn’t want to. It shouldn’t matter in a fucked-up situation like this one, but at the smell of chicken casserole, his stomach begins to rumble. He’s only now realising just how hungry he is. Feeling awkward and uncomfortable now that he’s surrounded himself with the evillest people he’s ever met, Miles grimaces when he fails to lean back in his seat due to his tied-up hands. 

“Oh, I nearly forgot,” Ruth laughs carelessly as though this situation couldn’t be more normal, “Terry, help him, will you? He can’t eat without the use of his hands.”

Miles tenses when Terry nears him and begins to grasp at his wrists. Untying him slowly, yet impatiently, Terry grunts and mutters under his breath, sending Miles on edge immediately. As his hands are finally released, Miles is only able to relax for a short moment. Then Terry kneels down in front of him and begins to tie his feet together instead. Miles look over at Ruth questioningly.

“Just in case you were planning on doing something stupid,” Ruth explains calmly. “Now, dig in,” she says as she takes Miles’s plate and begins to pour him a fairly large portion, “how is your head, son?”

“Huh?” Miles can’t even think straight; the horror of having Terry touching at his ankles is making him feel nauseous. Though tempted to kick him and tell him never to touch him again, Miles doesn’t dare. He has no idea what might happen if he pisses these people off for the second time tonight.

“I said how is your head?” Ruth repeats, squinting at Terry who is now tightening Miles’s ankles together meanly.

Knowing perfectly well that she is only pretending to care about his well-being, Miles sulks.

“It hurts,” he complains with zero trace of forgiveness in his voice. When Terry finally finishes his work and gets up from the floor, Miles feels like he is finally able to breathe again. He touches at his abused temple, grimacing with pain. “Not that you would care,” he huffs indignantly, avoiding Ruth’s eyes.

“What makes you say that?” Ruth asks neutrally, placing Miles’s plate in front of him. “Am I not caring for you right now by offering you my food? Do you still think I’m doing you wrong even though I’m protecting you?”

“You let them fucking punch me unconscious,” Miles responds in a strained voice, “is that really what you consider protection?”

He glares at Harry and Perry who are too busy eating to listen. As they are already filling up their plates for the second time and Terry begins to dig in, too, Miles realises there isn’t going to be much left for Alex.

“That only happened because you were getting hysterical,” Ruth tells Miles in a surprisingly composed voice, “you need to understand that your protection must be earned. If you want us to build up a relationship of trust, you’ve got to cooperate.” Ruth pauses to pour herself a small portion, though she doesn’t look too interested in her meal. “That being said, however – I do apologise. I appreciate that you must feel confused. So much has been revealed to you in one day. If you agree to reciprocate the respect that I’ve shown you so far, we shall be happy to never harm you again.”

Miles wants to laugh out loud, but he’s too tired; he would sooner break down crying instead.

“What about Alex?” Miles prods moodily. “Are you sorry for hurting him, too?”

“No,” Ruth replies instantly as she begins to eat casually, “I’m afraid there is no way out for him. He isn’t like you, boy. He lost his innocence a long time ago.”

They both fall silent for a moment. Miles listens to the way that Terry munches and chews loudly, making his younger brothers giggle. The gravy is dripping from Perry’s chin and Miles feels physically ill.

“Do you think he’s ever taken it up the arse?” Harry says suddenly, to no one in particular.

“Who? The faggot?”

“Yeah.”

For a moment, Miles thinks they are talking about him. Then he realises:

“Of course he’s taken it up the arse,” Terry insists lewdly, “ever since he was an infant, he’s been a faggot. Never talking to girls. Only ever surrounding himself with other boys.”

“Disgusting.”

“I bet he let grown men touch him in the playground after dark,” Perry laughs vulgarly, “I bet he let them bend him over…”

“And fuck him right up the arse,” Harry adds, shaking his head. “Unbelievable. Auntie Penny should have been ashamed of herself. To raise a kid like that.”

“She should have had an abortion,” Terry murmurs, “she would have done the rest of us such a huge favour. And now she’s braindead. And we’re stuck with the little creep.”

Ruth giggles and lights herself a cigarette. As she’s more bothered about smoking than eating, she leans back and enjoys her sons’ foul banter, ignoring the way that Miles twitches and squirms with outrage.

“Maybe that’s why he’s always been so… scrawny,” Harry continues, “so tiny. Because he’s never been a real man.”

“It’s embarrassing,” Terry snorts, “did you know that, back in the day, people used to prosecute faggots. Do you know how they exposed faggots in order to have them jailed?”

“How?” Perry enquired.

“They used to stick a finger up their arses,” Terry laughs crudely, “in order to check for penetrative dilations.”

Harry chuckles whilst Perry gags and retches melodramatically.

“They should all be burned at the stake,” Perry grimaces. “I can’t believe that someone would actually be that perverse. It’s sickening.” 

“Oh come on!” Miles suddenly cries, caving in as he can’t take it anymore. “Which century do you guys live in?!”

They all turn their heads and stare at Miles as though he’s the oddball in this room.

“Eat your dinner,” Ruth warns him, clearly displeased with his intrusion, “and be grateful that we’ve saved you from whatever felony he was going to put you through.”

“Yeah, arse-face,” Terry chomps, “keep your mouth shut and eat!”

After that, Terry digs into the pot and empties it gluttonously, until there’s nothing left for Alex.

 

*

 

After her sons have left the table to go play videogames in the living room, Ruth stays behind in the kitchen with Miles, smoking her third cigarette. Though uncomfortable and eager to get away from her, there’s nothing that Miles can do seeing as his feet are still tied together. He considers the option of reaching down to untie himself, but he probably wouldn’t be fast enough. Besides, what would he actually do? He wouldn’t be able to attack Ruth with her sons being in the other room. Would he run for the door? What exactly would she do to Alex if he left him behind?

“Aren’t you going to offer to do the dishes for me?” Ruth speaks suddenly, sniggering. “I’d reward you with a ciggie.”

“No way,” Miles pouts, crossing his arms defiantly, “I don’t care about your stupid rewards.”

“You also said you didn’t care for my food,” Ruth mutters, “but look who’s cleared his plate.”

At this, Miles feels a pang of guilt in his heart. The idea of eating now seems like a guilty privilege to him. Especially since she has left Alex hungry. Miles has no idea when she’ll offer him, or Alex, or both of them food again. She’s able to hold it against them; food is another privilege that she can either take away or grant them whenever she wants. She will make them work for it. She will manipulate them with the promise of a warm meal. Miles is about to say something when, unexpectedly, he hears the sound of the brothers pausing their videogame, after which the door to the kitchen opens again.

Terry pops his head inside and seems to be giving his mother an urgent look.

“We saw them from the window,” he utters tensely, making Miles furrow his brow, “they’re coming over. Now!”

“Who is coming over, dear?”

“The neighbours – his parents!” 

Terry points his finger at Miles, who – at the sudden prospect of hope – jumps up from the chair, forgetting that his feet are bound together, and falls to the floor miserably, whining loudly with distress. Then, all he hears is Ruth shouting:

“Shut him up! Do whatever it takes, I don’t care what – keep him quiet!”

Miles starts yelling with panic, but only a second later, he is muffled by a large hand pressing against his mouth, and he is winded by Terry’s huge figure straddling his chest. As Perry and Harry grab both his arms and pin him to the floor, Miles realises that he is trapped. Moaning and kicking in a poor attempt to separate his legs, Miles fights madly, knowing that this could very well be his and Alex's only chance of getting rescued. Screaming against Terry’s hand though he can hardly breathe, Miles continues to kick off until – regrettably, Terry reaches for a huge kitchen knife and holds it down to his jaw. At the promise of a cut throat, Miles suddenly freezes and looks into Terry’s face hovering above him. The look in that brute’s eyes is purely crazy; surely he would be insane enough to kill him.

Miles hears the ringing of a doorbell and he squirms again, though he doesn’t stand a chance. Terry presses the tip of the knife harder against his skin, whispering:

“Stay the fuck down, do you hear me? Keep your fucking mouth shut. I won’t just kill you, I will also kill your boyfriend. I will stab him so far up his arse that this blade will exit through his mouth. Capiche?”

Miles whimpers briefly, though – as soon as he hears Ruth opening the front door out in the hall – he begins to fear for his life and forces himself to keep quiet. Terry’s weight on top of him is so massive, it feels like his lungs are about to collapse.

“Yes?” All four of them listen anxiously as Ruth answers the door in her usual rude and aloof manner. “What do you want?”

Miles’s stomach feels painfully heavy at the sound of his mother’s voice from the other side of the door:

“Ms Sharpe, good evening. I’m sorry to disturb you so late. We’re here because – because we haven’t seen our son, Miles, since he left for school this morning. We were wondering if you might have seen him?”

It’s a dreadful sensation, knowing that his parents are so close, yet completely out of reach and unable to help him. Though his mum is putting on a brave voice, Miles is able to detect the upset in her tone. The angst. He’d give anything to be able to call out her name and tell her where he is. The idea of his parents searching the entire neighbourhood for him, ringing one doorbell after another in desperation, is breaking his heart. He never meant for them to get caught up in this shit; of all people, Miles never expected his own folks to get hurt – yet here they are. Desperate and scared.

“I haven’t seen your son,” Ruth tells them unkindly, “I’ve got enough going on with my own nephew running away from home, don’t you think?”

“Yes, of course, Ms Sharpe. I’m really sorry,” Miles’s dad clears his throat awkwardly, “we’ve been meaning to tell you that we’re sorry to hear about Alex. It must be so awful for the family. It’s just that…”

“What?” Ruth snaps impatiently, and Miles wants to slap her in the face for talking to his dad like that when she’s responsible for their distress.

“Well, we were kind of wondering if, perhaps,” his mother continues, “our Miles is out there looking for Alex. I mean – it isn’t like him to not come home and they are such close friends. We’ve been phoning him all evening, but there is no signal.”

“And so what if your son has left home, too?” Ruth grunts, disinterested. “Are you going to blame that on me?”

“No, no of course not,” Miles’s dad tells her, much too kindly, “but seeing as we’ve already contacted the police, we were hoping that, perhaps, we could join forces and search for our boys together. Who knows? Maybe our Miles knows where Alex is.”

“With all due respect,” Ruth huffs, “Alexander isn’t my boy. If he’s stupid enough to run away from home, he’s on his own for all I care. I’ve got three sons of my own and I’d rather spend my precious time looking out for them. I am willing to keep an eye out for your son, Mr Kane, but I’m afraid that’s the best I can do. I’m too old to waste my energy running after disobedient, immature school boys.”

Ruth slams the door, cutting Miles’s dad off just as he’s about to say something. She then lingers, cautiously waiting for them to disappear and remove themselves from her doorstep. Miles closes his eyes and feels his entire body shivering with fury and let-down. He’s letting his disappointed tears spill and it’s making Terry laugh at him meanly. He doesn’t care, though. His parents have been so close to finding him, and now Ruth has sent them off course, leaving them clueless. Things couldn’t seem much bleaker for him and Alex.

“Cry-baby,” Perry sniggers, listening to Miles’s stifled wheezes, “miss your mummy and daddy already?”

Miles ignores him. Instead, he listens for Ruth’s footsteps. She waits in the hall for another minute, until she sees Mr and Mrs Kane disappear back into their own house. Then she returns to the kitchen, taking in the scene in front of her. Chuckling at the way that Terry is still pressing the big knife against Miles’s jawline, she smiles and praises:

“Quick thinking. Now, lad, why did you have to make that so difficult for us? I hope you weren’t going to tell on us. After all, we’ve done you one favour after another. You ought to show a little gratitude.”

Miles snivels and blubs against Terry’s palm, feeling the tears running down his cheeks sideways.

“Ew,” Terry complains, removing his hand from Miles’s mouth, “I’ve got his snot on my finger.”

“We’ve got to get him back in the basement,” Ruth orders with a tinge of apprehension, “it’s too risky to keep him up here. Damn those neighbours to hell – I have a feeling they’ll be back again soon. Tomorrow, lad, you’re writing them a letter telling them that you’re fine. Perhaps that will get them off my back for a while.”

 

*

 

Miles is roughly dragged down the stairs and thrown back into the empty, unfurnished room, in which Alex is still lying unconscious on the floor. Cursing Harry who’s shoving him forwards so violently that he trips and falls to his knees, Miles somehow becomes more docile after that. Terry hooks a long tether around his ankle, but leaves his hands free. It’s becoming clear to Miles that he is going to be a prisoner down here for a very long time to come.

Perry subsequently enters the room hauling a single mattress across the cold floor, leaving it sloppily at Miles’s feet. 

“Are we actually going to sleep in this room?” Miles utters, dismayed. “Where’s Alex’s bed?”

“He hasn’t had one in a while,” Harry replies condescendingly, “he lost that privilege pretty quickly.”

“But…” Miles shivers and wraps his arms around himself. It’s freezing cold down here. “But that mattress isn’t big enough for two.”

“That’s right, it ain’t,” Perry grins, “it’s just for you, dickhead. The floor is his bed now.”

Before Miles can object, Ruth joins them. He looks up at her judgementally. Even when she tosses him a small pillow for comfort does he frown with disapproval.

“I can’t believe you!” He barks at her, unwilling to show any appreciation for the ‘special’ treatment she’s shown him. “You were supposed to let Alex have some of the food. You were supposed to let me help him. He’s injured, and you’re just going to leave him like that?!” At this, the three brothers burst out laughing. “Shut your fucking mouths!” Miles bellows. “I’m serious! You’re starving him! And he’s in pain – you can’t neglect him like this!”

Ruth yawns slightly, which is only pissing Miles further off.

“We’ve been over this, how many times now, kid? My house, my rules. I’ll feed him when I want. Or not. Either way, it’s up to me. Besides, this is all he’s going to need for now.” Ruth leaves the room momentarily and returns with a tray in her hands. Placing it on the floor, next to Alex’s lifeless body, she leaves Miles to stretch his neck in order to see what it is. A glass of water and two small pills. No food. No bandages. No disinfectant to clean his wounds with. “See,” she smirks, “I told you I can be kind.”

“Fuck you!” Miles shouts at the top of his lungs. “Fuck you and your fucking bullshit and your non-existent, fake kindness! Fuck you all!” Miles feels the spittle escape from in between his teeth and for a moment, he feels like he is on the verge of losing his mind. “Fuck off! Just fucking fuck off, you – you stupid, sadistic bitch! You’re all just a bunch of perverts! You’re all just a psychotic excuse for a freak-show! You all deserve to get locked up!”

Terry clenches his fists menacingly, but Ruth stops him, laughing Miles’s insults off. 

“Come on, boys,” she speaks calmly, “I think someone’s had a long day. We better let our guest rest until tomorrow morning.”

Even as Ruth ushers everyone out and locks the door on him, Miles continues to hurl his insults at them, believing that he’s going to explode if he hears those pricks laughing at him just one more time. However, as he hears the family making their way back upstairs, he falls suddenly exhausted, suddenly heartbroken. Something inside him snaps and he can no longer yell. Alternatively, he breaks down crying for a second time, though without holding back now.

“Those – those god damn bastards!” Miles gasps and chokes, drawing his knees to his chest and burying his face underneath both his arms. “This can’t be happening… It just can’t…”

Sobbing loudly and achingly, Miles lets himself go completely. Trembling as he recalls his mum’s anxious voice asking for him, begging Ruth for help, Miles begins to pull at his own hair in despair. The thoughts are running through his troubled head, each one more harrowing than the other; what is Ruth going to do with them? How long is she going to keep them here for? How much time will pass before the world gives up on them and stops searching? How much time before Ruth grows bored with her own idea of punishment and decides to kill them instead of tormenting them? How could he have been so stupid to come here on his own, without a weapon, without a back-up plan? He should have brought someone with him, he should have brought Helders and the rest of the gang, he should have called the police from the very beginning instead of playing Alex’s hero… He’s fucked up. He’s fucked up so bad. How can he possibly forgive himself for this?

Slamming his palm against the concrete floor in desolation, Miles wails deafeningly and weeps like a small infant. Screaming in sudden infuriation, Miles slams his hand against the floor over and over again. He doesn’t care if he hurts himself; he has to find some way of letting his frustrations out. He continues to cry miserably and pathetically, until – 

“M-miles?”

At the sound of Alex’s weak and raspy voice, Miles stills himself immediately, releasing a shaky breath. Holy fuck!

“Alex!” He exclaims, suddenly breathless. “Oh my God, Alex – you’re awake!”

Forgetting all about his own sorrows, Miles leaps forward, crawling across the floor, thanking God Almighty that the chain around his ankle is long enough to allow him to crouch down by Alex’s side. Reaching out for his friend who’s been left to suffer on the hard floor all alone, Miles releases a small gasp when he sees Alex crumbling in pain as he attempts to turn himself around. 

“No, Alex, don’t move,” Miles warns him with concern, “you’re hurt. Take it easy!”

Alex trembles evidently and twitches as every movement appears to torment his broken body. His hands are still handcuffed behind his back, making it almost impossible for him to roll himself over.

“Miles,” he whispers, sounding absolutely crushed, “I – I can’t believe… that you’re here…”

“Shh,” Miles sooths him, “it’s okay. Just take it easy, alright? I need to look you over and make sure that you’re okay.” Miles touches Alex’s shoulder as gently as he can. He can’t believe how fragile Alex looks underneath him; he’s pale and sweaty, shuddering horribly. His skinny frame is doubled over on the floor while the handcuffs are giving him an even harder time. He’s sporting red and purple marks everywhere, even underneath both eyes. Thankfully, though, there is no swelling to his face. “I’m going to help you sit up,” Miles utters nervously, “do you think you can handle it?”

Though he’s screwing his face up in agony, Alex nods. As soon as Miles grabs him underneath both arms and begins to lift, however, Alex releases a small cry and Miles can feel the way that he tenses his body all over. This is bad. Perhaps even worse than he had first anticipated. 

“Alex, I’m really sorry,” Miles utters remorsefully, “I know it hurts, but I have to get you up. On three – one, two-“

Alex groans excruciatingly and bites his lip hard when Miles hauls him up from the floor and steadies him with his shoulders pressed against the wall. Even sat upright, Alex continues to grimace and contort his face as he’s hurting all over. Miles kneels down in front of him and brushes the hair away from Alex’s eyes, comforting him as much as he can, hushing him as though he’s a small child.

“It’s okay,” Miles whispers gently, palming Alex’s face, “you’re going to be okay.”

Alex’s breathing is hitched and laboured. He’s shivering so violently now, he’s beginning to look absolutely sick. When his eyes open again, they are big and rounded with panic.

“Miles,” he hisses in a strained, broken voice, “you’re – you’re crying…”

Suddenly, Alex is looking into Miles’s eyes, equalling the other’s amount of concern completely. He’s looking Miles over fretfully, even though he isn’t the one who’s been beaten up.

“I’m fine, Alex, really,” Miles exhales, wiping his eyes dry with a hint of embarrassment, “don’t worry about me.”

“D-did they hurt you?” Alex questions pressingly, seemingly unconvinced. “You’ve got a s-small bump… on your forehead,” he coughs with difficulty and clears his throat, “I saw them h-hitting you…”

Miles chews his lips for a moment, feeling too ashamed of himself to meet Alex’s worried, caring look. Even though her sons did manage to knock him out, at least Ruth has made certain that Miles was fed and granted a mattress to sleep on. He isn’t even in pain anymore. Ruth has taken him under her wing, she has protected him – or at least, she’s been trying to. Alex, on the other hand, has already received more abuse than Miles could even begin to imagine.

“I saw them hitting you as well,” Miles utters self-consciously, looking down at the blood that has stained Alex’s white t-shirt, “only, they were much crueller on you. They were kicking you. Burning you. They even tried choking you. You were out cold for hours, Alex. They’ve bruised you like a fucking peach.”

Alex doesn’t seem to react to Miles’s statement. Instead, he’s observing Miles’s discomfort with a guilty conscience, like it’s all his fault.

“I’m really sorry, Miles…” He mouths quietly, his eyes sadder than Miles have ever seen them before. “You weren’t s-supposed to get caught up in this… It’s m-my fault that you’re here…”

“What? No, Alex – come on,” Miles sighs, running a hand through Alex’s hair reassuringly, “none of this is your fault. They tricked you. They tricked and lied to all of us. But worst of all, they’ve harmed you. And I’ve got to make sure that you’re okay. Do you understand?”

Alex’s composure falters and he shivers again, feeble and shattered. He is barely able to keep himself up from the floor. He looks dizzy. Disorientated. Exhausted from his maltreatment.

“W-what even happened?” He asks Miles with bewilderment. “I mean… How did you get here? How did you f-find me?”

Miles smiles at him sadly and caresses his black-and-blue cheek as softly as he can.

“It wasn’t easy,” he admits, uncertain as to how much he should reveal to Alex straight away, “I mean, that obnoxious bitch has been lying to everyone. She told people that you had run away from home. She even called the police herself, had them investigating your disappearance…”

At this, Alex appears genuinely shocked.

“She – she told people I ran away?” He swallows hard, clearly upset. “And did people actually believe her?”

“I didn’t,” Miles tells him sincerely, “I knew she was full of shit. I knew you wouldn’t leave us like that. Not when – you know – not when we had an agreement.” Miles looks up at him tenderly and Alex reciprocates slightly timidly; it becomes clear to both of them that they remember the things that were said and promised the last time the two of them had been together in the school library. And though Miles’s plans to help Alex escape Ruth’s evil reign have now backfired, they are both able to take solace in remembering what else went down between them that day. Miles recalls his own relief and joy as Alex had announced his feelings for him and returned his kisses, his affections. He remembers a vibrating sensation in his own body as Alex had pressed their bodies together and pushed him up against the bookshelf, carefully, yet determinedly. How Miles has missed looking into those gentle eyes. Even now, Alex looking back at him is enough to make him feel hopeful again. And yet… If it hadn’t been for that kiss, they probably wouldn’t be trapped in this basement right now. “The thing is, Alex,” Miles sighs, “even when everyone else started worrying that you were out there somewhere, on your own, I knew there was something fishy about Ruth’s explanations. I – I got your text message… From the night you disappeared.”

Miles pauses, feeling himself welling up again. Alex makes a sudden movement with his hands, wanting to reach out and touch him, then reminding himself that he can’t. The clatter from his handcuffs is a cruel reminder of his captivity.

“Miles,” he begins hesitantly, “there’s something you should know. About that text message, I mean.”

Miles wipes at his eyes again, seeing as he’s becoming emotional without being able to help it. “What is it?” He asks unsuspectingly, watching the way that Alex seems to squirm with discomfort. “What’s wrong?”

“The message wasn’t from me,” Alex tells him tentatively, as though he’s worried that Miles is going to kick off, “I’m so sorry. It wasn’t written by me, it was all Ruth’s doing. She took my phone and by that point they had already dragged me down here and locked me up.” Alex falls silent for a moment and now it’s his turn to fill with emotion. “I had no chance to react. I had no way of warning you, or anybody else. It happened so quickly…”

Alex’s eyes are glistening with tears. Miles suddenly longs to wrap his arms around him and hold him tight, but he’s afraid it would only hurt him more.

“Tell me what happened,” Miles whispers lightly, resting his hand on Alex’s thigh, somewhere caught between wanting to get closer and wanting to offer the other some space, “what did they do to you?”

Alex inhales deeply before he is able to collect himself. 

“Even though I knew I had come home late that day, they were acting all weird around me,” Alex starts, his voice heavy and intense, “it wasn’t like any other time when I had done something to upset them. It was so much worse. They wouldn’t leave me out of their sight. They kept telling me to stay in the kitchen. Every time I tried to go to my room, they hauled me back and told me to just stay put. It went on like that for hours. Until, eventually, they all just started screaming at me.” Alex pauses, trying hard to steady his breathing. “I assume you know about the video?”

“You mean the one that Taylor ratted us out with?” Miles snorts. “Yeah, Ruth has shown it to me. She’s a god damn psycho.” 

“Well, they kept playing the video to me, over and over again,” Alex murmurs, “and every time they watched it, they got even angrier with me and told me that I was a disgrace. Suddenly, Auntie Ruth just snapped and told Terry to get me out of her sight. That was when he punched me and carried me all the way down here, kicking and screaming.” Alex then licks his bloodied lip and frowns. “I kept thinking they would slaughter me or summat. But instead, they’ve kept me chained to a wall the whole time.”

Miles offers Alex a sympathetic look as he moves his fingertip to the dried blood trailing down Alex’s jaw. It doesn’t come off as he touches it.

“I’ll never forgive them for what they’ve done to you,” he whispers with resentment. “But I do wonder… Why on earth would Ruth send me that message, pretending to be you? It doesn’t make any sense.”

“I think she meant to set you up,” Alex speaks softly, though it obviously pains him to admit it, “I think she wanted you to come looking for me. In this house. Perhaps it was always her plan to have us both captured. Miles, I’m so sorry – I just… I just wish I could have warned you. The last thing I wanted was for them to get you, too.”

“Hey, stop saying that,” Miles begs, realising that Alex is the last person who is to blame for any of this, “at least we’re not separated anymore. I know it sounds stupid, but – despite everything – I’m so glad I finally found you.” With these words, Miles closes the distance between them slowly. “I was so scared. For a moment, I almost thought I’d never see you again…”

Miles presses a very delicate kiss to Alex’s lips, though it doesn’t escalate from there. This is in no way the time for romance, or passion, or anything of the sort. Alex accepts Miles’s subtle gesture, though he doesn’t respond. Pulling a face in distress, though, Alex reminds Miles of the agony that he is still in.

“I’m so sorry,” Miles pants, “did I hurt you?”

“It’s just… my mouth,” Alex apologises, feeling slightly humiliated. “It burns. I guess it’s been bleeding quite a lot.”

Considering the way that his cousins used his mouth as an ashtray for their cigarette so brutally, Miles feels like an idiot for not being more careful. 

“Those bastards,” Miles mutters under his breath as he suddenly remembers the glass of water, which Ruth has left them with, “here – drink this.” As Miles holds the glass up to his lips, Alex only hesitates briefly before drinking urgently. It’s leaving Miles to wonder when they’ve last allowed him to put out his thirst. “Hold on, she brought you some painkillers as well,” Miles tells him as he dissolves the two pills into the remaining water, “you’re going to need them.”

Alex downs the glass rather quickly, though the stinging from his burn wounds is causing him trouble. Taking in the dried blood covering his nostrils, mouth and chin, Miles sincerely wishes that Ruth had granted him something to clean Alex up with. 

“How bad is it?” Alex asks him warily when he catches Miles looking him over. “My face.”

“You’re still as beautiful as the day we met,” Miles announces truthfully. Though he means it, and though it’s true that the bruises, the cut lip, the nosebleed, the burns haven’t changed a thing, it still pains him to see Alex suffering so visibly. Tightening his lips into a melancholic smile, Miles sooths him once more by palming his cheek. “I need to take a look at your abdomen. I want to make sure that you don’t have any swellings.”

Alex nods, and though he understands that Miles is only doing what’s necessary, he grows nervous and jittery as soon as his shirt is being lifted up. The movement is clearly causing him a great deal of pain, so Miles promises himself to be quick. As Alex leans back and rests his back against the wall, Miles inspects his chest and stomach uneasily. He’s never before seen such a serious display of blue, yellow, purple and black discolouring; Alex’s skin has become a canvas of all the most disturbing colours and bruises he’s ever witnessed. It becomes apparent to him that Alex’s tiny frame hasn’t stood a chance against his cousins’ wounding fists; had this gone on for much longer, they would have broken him beyond repair. Miles bites his lip in order to supress his outrage when he prods at Alex’s lower ribs gingerly in order to check for broken bones. Alex jerks immediately and gives a small sob. There’s no doubt in Miles’s mind that his ribs have become his most critical weakness; the biggest source of his pain.

“Alex,” Miles breathes, feeling absolutely sickened, “this is serious. You could have suffered internal bleedings after what they put you through.”

“I don’t – I don’t feel so good, Miles,” he utters suddenly, and Miles can tell that he’s turned even paler than before. “It hurts…”

Alex is dangerously close to sliding down the wall as he sways groggily, no longer able to mask his anguish. Without any time to waste, Miles crosses the floor again and drags the mattress with him, pushing it up against the wall next to Alex’s trembling body.

“Here,” Miles instructs him anxiously, “lie down. It’ll be much better for you.”

When Alex is unable to shift on his own, Miles comes to his assistance and manages to lower him unto the softer surface, supporting his weight in between his arms cautiously. Alex whimpers slightly and doubles over, adapting a foetal position when the aches and spasms are overpowering him completely. 

“It’s okay, Alex,” Miles whispers into his ear, wrapping a protective arm around the smaller body, “I’m watching over you. I’m not going to let anything happen to you. I promise.” 

“Miles, I’m so sorry,” Alex then cries, clenching his teeth and wrenching his arms, though they’re still trapped behind his back, “I-I’m the one who brought us into this mess… She isn’t going to let us go. She’s…”

The rest of his words are replaced by a horrible moan. The sweat has started to show on his face and when Miles feels his forehead, he is burning hot.

“You need to rest,” Miles urges him worriedly, sensing that Alex has probably strained himself, “your body is still struggling to cope with the pain. Maybe – maybe the painkillers will kick in soon.”

But Alex remains inconsolable. Writhing restlessly as all his discomforts are intensifying viciously, he sobs into Miles’s chest as Miles places himself next to him on the small mattress, forced to hold him close within their confinement. 

“I never wanted you to get hurt because of me,” Alex wails almost feverishly as he shudders and winces, struggling against the coldness of this unheated room, “she set you up, Miles. You never should have come here looking for me… She’ll punish us both.”

What Alex doesn’t yet understand is that he’s the only one being punished, whilst Miles is merely here to watch and observe helplessly. Miles continues to shush Alex and to hold him close, rubbing his hands in circles over Alex’s bared arms in order to try and keep him warm. He can feel Alex’s breath mingling with his own and for a moment, he can’t believe what they have had to go through in order to finally be able to lie in each other’s arms.

“It’s okay,” Miles tells him over and over again, until Alex finally faints, or simply falls asleep, succumbing to his exhaustion, “as long as we’re together, we’re going to be okay. She tried to take you away from me, Alex, but I won’t let her. We are going to make a plan. We’ll find a way to get out of here. I swear.”

But Miles should have known better than to make promises he can’t keep.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ruth will do anything to see Alex suffer. She starves him, humiliates him and hurts him. On top of that, she wants to mess with Miles and Alex's friendship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for the long wait! I have been on holiday, but now I am back! Hopefully I will be able to update on a more regular basis from now on :)
> 
> And again I must include a trigger warning: This chapter contains graphic depictions of violence, corporal punishments and physical harm/ torture. Also, I must warn against homophobic and misogynist language.
> 
> Be strong. The story is still getting darker, I'm afraid...

Miles awakes suddenly, as though stirred conscious by a horrible feeling within his stomach. He gasps slightly and opens his eyes immediately. His heart is pounding madly in his chest when he realises that he’s no longer hugging Alex protectively. He’s got the mattress all to himself. Alex is gone. 

“Alex!” He exclaims with fear, assuming the worst. “Alex, where are you?!” 

He raises himself from the mattress and finds that Alex has moved over to the corner of the room. He’s now resting himself exhaustively up against the wall, with his knees drawn to his chest. He’s shivering evidently, freezing cold, and Miles can practically hear the clattering of his teeth. However, his eyes are clenched shut and he can’t tell if he’s asleep or not. 

“Alex,” Miles gulps, moving over to him instantly, grateful that the chain around his ankle allows him to, “hey, come here – wake up. You should lie down…”

As soon as Miles touches his shoulder, Alex jerks and lets out an involuntary whimper.

“Miles,” he wheezes, “are they here? Are they coming?”

At once, Alex seems panicked at scared, so Miles shushes him in an attempt to convince them both that there is nothing to worry about.

“You’re fine, Alex, relax,” Miles assures him, palming Alex’s cheek, “no one’s here, it’s just us.” As he touches the other face, making Alex look up from the floor, Miles is once again horrified to see his bruised skin and pain-stricken expression. He looks absolutely worn out. Woozy. “Why don’t you go back to the mattress? Here, I’ll give you a hand…” 

But when Miles clutches his arm, Alex wriggles slightly, shaking his head.

“No, wait – I can’t…” Alex presses himself further back against the wall, avoiding Miles’s touch. “The mattress is for you, Miles. We can’t risk it.”

“Alex, you need it a hundred times more than I do right now,” Miles objects, “you’re hurt. You’re shivering. Now, come on. Just let me help you.”

“Miles, no,” Alex persists, struggling again, “they’ll be here any minute. They’ll catch us lying, you know… next to each other.”

“How do you know that they’ll be here?” Miles inquires. “Can you even tell if it’s light outside or not?”

“I know it’s morning because I can hear the voices coming from upstairs every now and again. Trust me, Miles, they’ll be here soon. They always start the day checking up on me.” Alex pauses to cough, and as he does, his voice gets suddenly raspier and his breathing slightly laboured. 

“Fucking hell, Alex, you’re getting sick,” Miles utters with concern, feeling his forehead, “what is it, ten degrees down here? We need to ask them for some blankets. And some medicine. You’re not even wearing any socks, for crying out loud.”

“That’s not… how this works,” Alex coughs again, cringing in agony, “I can’t just ask them for things. They hate me, Miles. You’ve seen it yourself. I think – I think they want me dead…” 

A sudden chill runs down Miles’s spine, making him feel nauseous.

“Come on,” Miles argues, though he can’t tell if he’s actually trying to persuade Alex or himself, “don’t say that… It – it won’t come to that. I – I wouldn’t let them, Alex.” Miles hesitates, patting Alex’s arm, concerned at how cold his skin is. The blood-spatters on Alex’s white t-shirt are reminding him of the Sharpe family’s heartless, cruel nature. Perhaps they are somehow capable of committing even the worst thinkable crime. “You need to rest. Come on, it’ll make you feel better.” 

But before Alex can answer, they both stop dead as they hear the unlocking of the door upstairs, followed by heavy footsteps down the stairway. Alex tenses visibly and cowers, almost like a frightened animal. Even Miles finds himself holding his breath with dread and anticipation. Shit. Alex was right. They are actually on their way.

With his hands tied behind his back, Alex wriggles helplessly, trying to remind Miles of the fact that his fingers are still on him.

“Sorry,” Alex apologises when this earns him a surprised look from Miles, “but you probably shouldn’t be touching me when they walk in here.”

Though he knows that Alex is right, Miles remains frozen for another moment, unwilling to let go of him. It is only when the footsteps approach and they can hear a fiddling of keys on the other side of the door to their prison cell that Miles suddenly reacts. He leaps back onto his mattress, pretending to have kept to himself the whole time. He breaks apart from Alex just in time before the door is unlocked and kicked open by Terry.

“Morning, poofters!” The massive bloke shouts piercingly, forcing Miles to cringe. “Wake the fuck up, we’ve got plans for you!”

As soon as Miles lays eyes on the big brute who participated in beating Alex up so cruelly yesterday, he clenches his fists and scowls with resentment. Only, Terry doesn’t see it. His attention is immediately fixed on his younger cousin. For some reason, Alex manages to reduce the shaking of his aching limbs, probably attempting to disguise his torment. 

“Now, Terrence, what did I tell you about giving our guest a kind awakening?” Ruth’s voice sounds as she steps into the room along with her two other sons. She’s wearing her ugly robe, exposing ugly skin and ugly legs, and she’s smoking a one of her countless cigarettes, filling up the small room with her nicotine. She gives Miles a look, which could be interpreted as both apologetic and sarcastic all at once. “How did you sleep, young man?” She questions, though she comes off as anything but caring and attentive. “Is this room too cold for you?”

“Not as cold as you,” Miles mutters under his breath, infuriated.

“Come again?”

“You really want to know how I’ve slept?” Miles then spits at them. “I’ve got a fucking chain around my foot and it’s cold enough to see your own breath down here, so how do you think I’ve slept? And what about your nephew? Aren’t you going to ask about him? He’s the one you’ve beaten to a pulp!” Miles is so angry, he can feel the blood suddenly boiling in his veins, but it’s a waste of time. Ruth’s expression remains disinterested, unsympathetic. 

“Next time we’ll put you to sleep in our freezer, you ungrateful pile of shit!” Perry interferes menacingly, but Ruth waves a hand lazily, shushing him.

“It’s too early in the morning for this kind of talk,” she complains, frowning, “if our guest is not comfortable down here, perhaps we ought to put them in separate rooms.” At this, Miles gulps with regret. No, this is not what he wants. There is no way that he is leaving Alex’s side. “Anyway, there is plenty of opportunity for you to be cranky later,” she tells Miles condescendingly, “it’s dawn and we’ve been wasting our time so far. There are things that I need you to do for me before it’s too late.”

At this, Alex dares to raise his head and look over at Miles, curious as to what Ruth is going to ask of him.

“Who the fuck told you to look up from the floor, you little piss-ant?” Harry barks, grasping Alex’s hair and forcing his head back down. “This doesn’t concern you!”

“Stop that!” Miles gasps, though he hasn’t actually hurt Alex this time. “Don’t touch him!”

“Funny,” Terry sneers, “we could tell you the exact same thing. Faggot.”

“Enough,” Ruth decides with a small yawn, inhaling her cigarette as though in need of a kick, “don’t upset the boy. He’s going to perform a very important task for me in just a moment.”

“Is this about the letter that you want me to write to my parents?” Miles grunts, incensed. “Do you actually think that they are going to stop searching for us just because I tell them to in a fucking letter?”

“Let’s discuss the significance of that letter in private,” Ruth grins smugly. “Alexander – you are looking awfully filthy. It’s time for your bath. You know the routine.”

The routine? Miles is taken aback by this change of subject. If Alex is unclean, it is because his pains have left him in a horrible cold sweat, because the blood is still smeared and dried down his chin, and not because he’s filthy, or stained with sin. And yet, Ruth acts like she doesn’t even want to go near him. The unexpected mention of a bath has left Alex looking increasingly terrified and Miles is utterly baffled. It’s becoming clear to him that a bath isn’t good news. Perhaps this is not a privilege they are granting him, but another punishment. 

“But…” Alex intervenes weakly, shivering even harder, “but I’m s-so cold… P-please…”

“What are you st-st-st-stuttering for?” Harry mocks him meanly, stepping closer and invading Alex’s personal space. “It was an order, you idiot, so keep your fucking mouth shut! Get up!”

Alex isn’t able to. He’s in too much pain and without the use of his hands, he doubles over in distress, lacking the strength to obey.

“Stop being so pathetic – it’s disgusting!” Terry scolds him, joining his brother. “Last chance, Nancy-boy! Get up or we’ll have to do this the hard way.”

Alex makes one last attempt, biting his lip hard in discomfort. When he’s still unable to raise himself from the floor, falling back against the wall, trembling, Terry loses his patience and roars. Seizing Alex’s shoulder and dragging him up from the floor brutally, he continues to yell his insults whilst Alex screams out in pain as his body is forced into positions that make his injuries flare up.

“Let go!” Miles shouts, jumping to his feet in despair. “Let go, you – you fucking psycho! You’re hurting him!”

“Stay back, turd-face,” Perry intimidates him, pressing against Miles’s shoulder, preventing him from interfering, “I thought you’d learned your lesson from yesterday.”

Miles swallows hard, realising that he’s utterly powerless. He’s beginning to understand that yesterday’s horrors and tragedies are going to repeat themselves over and over again before his eyes, and that there’s absolutely nothing that he can do about it. 

“Alex!” Miles exclaims as the other is trapped in between his two huge cousins, kept in a tight grip that appears to be tormenting his sore body. They are doing everything that they can to deliberately harm him.

“Lock him in the bathroom, let him run his own bath and give him ten minutes in there alone,” Ruth instructs her sons, moving behind Alex to free him of the handcuffs, “after ten minutes, you will check up on him. Make sure that he’s clean. And not just clean; I want him to be spotless. Mark my words, Alexander, if you are not in the water by the time they check up on you…” Ruth’s warning is chilling and disturbing, and judging from Alex’s petrified expression, he knows damn well what will happen to him if he doesn’t follow her rules. “You are a very filthy, dirty boy. I hope you’re deeply ashamed of yourself. Even though we scrub you clean every morning, you are always going to be filthy. Tainted with your own evil immorality.” Miles nearly gasps at Ruth’s insane statement. Surely, Alex must know that this isn’t true. “Take him away, boys,” she speaks finally, gloating as the tears are beginning to show in her nephew’s eyes. “And start counting those minutes immediately.”

As Terry and Harry drag Alex out of the room against his will, Ruth and Perry stay behind to focus their attention on Miles.

“How can you be treating him like that?” Miles cries with accusation. “He’s not well! I told you – he needs to see a doctor!”

“This is not about his needs,” Ruth huffs indifferently, causing Perry to smile, “this is about what I need from you, kid. Right now.”

Miles feels a rise of panic in his chest. He doesn’t know what to do. If he helps this crazy bitch, he might as well be digging his own grave.

“Why would I even do what you tell me to?” Miles stalls, tensing at the way that Perry is eyeing him angrily. “You won’t even offer me anything I want in return. Will you?”

“I’ll make you a nice breakfast, kid. As a thank you for your cooperation,” Ruth grins, ashing her cigarette against one of the concrete walls. “Eggs and sausages – the whole thing. Maybe even some baked beans. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

“I would rather that Alex had my meal,” Miles negotiates, “I ate yesterday. It’s his turn.”

“Nuh-uh,” Ruth mocks him, enjoying the frustration that is plastering itself upon Miles’s features, “trying to be noble won’t get you anywhere, I’m afraid. My nephew won’t be rewarded for the hard work that you do for me. He doesn’t deserve it.”

“Are you saying that he deserves to starve? Oh come on,” Miles thunders, though Perry warns him by stepping in between the two of them, “what the fuck is this?! Are you actually trying to kill him? Is that it?”

“I’ve already told you what you need to do to earn him a meal,” Ruth reminds him heartlessly, “but that’s not what we’re here to discuss this morning. This letter is a matter of urgency.”

“And Alex’s health isn’t?” Miles snorts, disgusted with them all. “Come on – clearly the letter is something you need from me. I’ll write down anything you want – just do what I ask in return. Give Alex something to eat – and some medicine.”

“You can’t ask any favours on his behalf,” Ruth persists, “so stop playing his advocate.”

“But – but this room is uninhabitable!” Miles bursts out in desperation. “We’re freezing to death down here. We need blankets, we need heating! We need more clothes…”

“I’ll give you a pair of fresh clothes every morning,” Ruth grunts, “I wouldn’t want my basement to turn all smelly, anyway. I can throw in a duvet, too, but I have a feeling that you will only be sharing it with him.”

“Because you’re such homos!” Perry insults him, frowning at Miles.

“G-give us one each,” Miles begs, hating the tremor of his voice, “I mean… That’s not too much to ask.”

“That’s not up for you to decide,” Ruth dismisses him, “you’re forgetting who’s making the terms here. I have already been plenty generous with you.”

“What about the breakfast?” Miles tries again, feeling embarrassed by the growling of his stomach. “Alex and I could share… Please?”

Ruth crosses her arms, looking annoyed by Miles’s stubbornness.

“He’s not eating until you want him to eat so badly that you’ll do anything I ask,” she maintains viciously, “I can bring down a bottle of water, but that’s it.”

“But – but he’s getting sick!” Miles objects, stepping forward unconsciously, forcing Perry to press a hand against his chest. “I do want him to eat!”

“Do you want him to eat so bad that you’ll slap him for me?” Ruth smiles, testing his wilfulness. “You’re not really a man of your words, are you – lad?”

Perry sniggers, towering in front of Miles.

“I – I can’t slap him,” Miles croaks, taking a step back. “I mean, I won’t! He’s done nothing to deserve that.”

“He’s been a fucking faggot. A god damn pervert,” Perry grunts, pulling a face of disgust, “what more reason do you need, you imbecile? I’d burn him at the stake for it if it were up to me. I wouldn’t show him any fucking mercy!”

“Shut up!” Miles hisses, outraged by that devilish claim. “You’re fucking bonkers, you know that, don’t you?”

“Say that again, you little fruit!” Perry menaces, grasping Miles by the collar, but it’s an act that Miles has witnessed before; it’s merely supposed to intimidate him. “I don’t think this blockhead gets it, Mum! I think he must be trying to sabotage himself!”

Ruth doesn’t respond; she must have decided to wait and see where Perry is going with this.

“No, you’re the ones that don’t get it!” Miles retorts, filled with anger. “I’m not going to write that letter for you unless Alex and I get what I fucking ask for!”

Big mistake. Miles’s sudden bravery backfires immediately. Perry raises his fist and is about to break his nose when Ruth stops him:

“No, darling – there are easier ways to win him over,” she chuckles almost gleefully, forcing Miles to believe that she’s only glad that he’s messed up the negotiation, “remove the tether from his ankle, Percival.”

Perry mopes at the anti-climax that it is for him to lower his fist without satisfaction, but he does as he’s told. 

“What are you doing?” Miles inhales with instant remorse. “Where are you taking me?”

“You’ll see,” Ruth taunts him in her lack of explanation, “I told you, lad; this is a matter of urgency. I’m not going to allow you to waste our valuable time.”

Miles feels suddenly relieved as his ankle is freed, even if he’s now ten times more terrified.

“Come on, scumbag,” Perry disparages, somehow understanding where his mother is going with this, “you’re coming with us!”

Miles is pushed in front of them, forced to walk out of the room as Perry clutches his hair from behind and walks him forward, pulling just hard enough for Miles to grimace and complain:

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing? Let go of me!”

Somehow, he still expects Ruth to interfere and to remind Perry to treat him properly, seeing as she refers to him as their ‘guest’, but she does no such thing; Miles must have really pissed her off in refusing to follow her orders blindly. As Miles is shoved out into the narrow basement hallway, he finds Terry and Harry guarding the door to one of the other rooms from outside, arms crossed over their chests, looking properly happy with their own good work. It hasn’t been ten minutes yet, but Ruth still tells them:

“Let us in. His time is up.”

Just like that, Miles seems to understand. 

The door to the bathroom is unlocked.

“Alright, you little jerk,” Terry calls as he enters the room first, “get ready for some company in there. You better be in the water already, or I’m going to shower you in acid next time!”

Perry and Harry shove Miles forwards once again, causing him to nearly stumble and land face-first as he is thrusted into the bathroom. Miles regains his balance and takes a nervous look around him. The bathroom is rather small, but it is a proper bathroom after all – despite the consistent lack of windows, which apparently applies to the basement in its entirety. The tiles on the walls are light-blue, while the tiled floor is white. There is a toilet installed in the far corner. The sink is situated right next to the entrance. In the middle of the room, however, is a large bathtub. And at the foot of it, Alex’s blood-stained clothes have been discarded on the floor.

Alex is sat in the water-filled tub, naked, vulnerable, exposed, though he’s attempted to hide his nudity by adding as many soapy bubbles to the water as possible. He’s shivering even worse than before, hugging himself with a troubled expression on his face. There is no steam or damp coming from the water at all. It’s ice cold, Miles realises. Alex’s lips have practically turned blue from being submerged into it. The water is high enough to cover Alex’s ribs, though his upper-half is completely dry. It appears that Alex hasn’t been able to dive fully under. He’s probably at risk of developing hypothermia if he stays in for much longer.

As soon as Miles stumbles into the room, followed by the brothers and Ruth herself, Alex gasps slightly and looks up in fear. He’s suddenly surrounded by spectators. Even Miles finds himself watching Alex with a mixture of shock and fascination. Though Alex must feel put on display, Miles can’t bring himself to look away. Not even to spare his friend of the extra humiliation. Miles watches the goosebumps on the other’s skin, the bruises painted all over his thin frame, the subtle, barely noticeable shade of red in the water as Alex has attempted to wash the blood off his face. Alex shudders and draws his knees to his chest, shrinking under the eyes that are on him as he tries to hide himself away, embarrassed. He’s so freezing cold, his violent trembling is causing the water to stir.

“Alex…” Miles finally mutters under his breath, vexed to see the torture that he has been submitted to. “Oh my God.”

“This is what happens to filthy, sordid boys,” Ruth speaks, interrupting everyone’s chain of thoughts. “No matter how often you clean them, they’ll always be infected. Impure.”

“Disgusting!” Harry snorts, reaching for the bar of hand soap by the sink. “There isn’t enough fucking soap in the world to clean this foul piece of scum!”

He throws the bar directly at Alex, who protects his face and lets it hit him on the knee. The bar of soap then lands in the water, disappearing. Alex shivers painfully as he has lowered himself further into the water, ducking, in case they are going to throw more things at him. 

“No!” Miles pants, watching Alex’s anguish. “Stop that – please!”

“Oh, it’s too late to pretend you’re his protector now,” Ruth tells Miles, signalling for Terry to keep him in place, “since you refuse to do as I say, you must not care what happens to him. Either way, I don’t have to listen to your pleas. Boys!”

Terry captures Miles’s arms, trapping them behind his back, twisting them into a painful angle that has Miles crumpling and cursing. Meanwhile, Harry and Perry approach Alex, laughing unnervingly, making Miles feel sick to his core. Alex stays still, even as they appear on each side of the tub in order to hover above him.

“Look at that,” Harry grins twistedly, “looks like someone forgot to wash his hair!”

“Well, we better offer him a hand, then,” Perry responds with a manic hoot, “let’s show him how it’s done, shall we?”

“No!” Miles exclaims as they throw themselves at Alex, suddenly pushing the rest of his fragile body under the surface, drowning him as his head slips under. “Wait! Don’t!”

“Feeling stupid now, are you?” Ruth mocks Miles, smiling calmly at the way that Alex panics and thrashes, struggling to emerge from the water. “This did not need to happen, you know. If only you hadn’t played so tough with me.”

Miles’s jaw drops. “Are you out of your mind?” He shouts, fighting urgently against Terry’s grip, not unlike yesterday. This can’t be happening all over again! This is a new day and a new way of tormenting Alex, just to manipulate Miles. “Make them stop!”

“Only you can make them stop,” Ruth shrugs, “by giving me what I want.”

Both Harry and Perry are on their knees now, bending over the brink of the tub, holding Alex down until they are up to their elbows in the cold water. Alex’s legs are kicking frantically, splashing the water everywhere in his attempt to break free, but he is far below the surface. The two brothers are laughing enthusiastically, spurring each other on. 

“I’ll do it!” Miles screams anxiously. “I’ll write that god damn letter, I’m not even going to ask for anything in return. Just help him!”

“Can I really trust you this time?” Ruth teases, stalling deliberately, causing Miles to bounce up and down as Alex is losing valuable time. “You are not going to be difficult with me later?”

“No!” Miles cries. “I’ll do anything – anything, god damn it! I swear! Just get him up! GET HIM UP!”

Alex’s protests are growing weaker the longer he’s left unable to breathe. Though he’s still fighting visibly, Harry is now able to hold him down all by himself, without the help of a second pair of hands. Perry now withdraws his arms from the water, wincing.

“Fucking hell, that’s cold!” He swears, clenching his fists in order to stimulate his circulation. “My fingers are numb already!”

“Oh don’t be such a pussy,” Terry mocks his brother, “besides, why would we waste any hot water on that cry-baby? It’s too good for him!”

“Get him up,” Miles intervenes again, squirming in Terry’s hold, “enough is enough! You’ve proved your point!” When he’s ignored by the brothers, he appeals to Ruth directly: “I’ve already agreed to do whatever you want! Just make them st-“

Miles is silenced as Perry walks up to him and places his freezing cold hand across his mouth, making him cringe.

“Make us what?” He grins, ridiculing Miles’s desperation. “Make us stop? Is that what you were going to say? Because I didn’t hear you say it, boy.”

Miles groans furiously against the icy palm, struggling as hard as he can to finish his sentence. Ruth laughs at his effort, pretending not to have heard his request. Somewhere over Perry’s massive shoulder, Miles can still see Alex’s hands reaching above the surface, trying to pull himself up by yanking desperately at Harry’s shirt. Harry reacts by laughing even louder at him and using extra force to pin him down against the bottom of the tub.

Miles screams hysterically at his oppressors, though he is once again muffled. Is this really what his and Alex’s situation is going to be like from now on? Alex gets tortured while they make Miles watch helplessly on the side-line? Perhaps Alex was right. Perhaps they really do want him dead. But Miles promised he wouldn’t let that happen, didn’t he? Miles cries and howls, stomps and wriggles. But only when – eventually – Ruth decides to interpose do they let go of him. 

“Alright, I think our guest has learned his lesson,” she chuckles maliciously, managing to make Miles resent her even more, “now he knows who’s really in charge here. Don’t you?” Ruth presses, just as Perry removes his palm from Miles’s lips. 

“Yes!” Miles gasps, all panic-stricken. “I promise! You’re in charge! Please – just get him up from there before you kill him! I’m begging you!”

His pleading appears to please her immensely. 

“Henry, darling!” She calls coolly, like Alex has minutes left instead of mere seconds. When Miles looks over at the tub this time, Alex has stopped moving under the surface and the water is almost completely still. “Pull him up, will you? He won’t forget to wash his hair again, I’m certain.”

Terry sniggers delightedly at her joke, while Miles feels almost too sick to breathe. Harry then obeys and lets go of his younger cousin. As he’s pulled away from the tub and Alex still hasn’t managed to break up from the surface on his own, Harry digs into the water once again and fishes up Alex’s body by yanking him forward by the hair. Alex’s skin is a horrible mixture of white and blue shades. When Alex collapses and fails to sit up on his own, Miles believes his limbs to be frozen for a moment. Then Harry slumps him against the edge of the tub, none too gently, leaving Alex to cling on for life. Only when he’s steadied does Alex gasp and choke and cough up the water that he’s swallowed, which spills all over the floor. 

“Al…” Miles gasps with concern, storming towards him, only to be stopped by Harry who places himself in front of him, pushing him back like a great, big wall. “Let me see him!”

“He’s just an overly dramatic faggot who can’t handle a bit of water,” Harry tells him as he pushes Miles further back, “what do you even care, you wuss? You just want to see him in the nude, don’t you? Is that it? Are you a fucking faggot?”

“Stop that!” Miles protests, listening to Alex’s coughing and wheezing with alarm. It sounds like his lungs came bloody close to filling up with water. “This is serious! He almost drowned!”

“We don’t want any naked faggot-touching here!” Perry roars behind him, pulling Miles backwards before he can attend to Alex in the water. “I better not be catching you looking at him! Perverts like you make me want to hurl!” 

“Keep him out of the way,” Terry mutters as he reaches into a cupboard by the sink for something, “I don’t need him giving us any more trouble.”

Alex is doubling over in the tub, barely able to keep himself up. He’s trembling so violently, absolutely plagued by the ice-cold temperature of the water. Miles fears what might happen if he stays in there for much longer.

“Remember,” Ruth tells Terry as he approaches Alex on his own, “every inch of him must be cleansed. Otherwise he’s only going to get even more corrupt.”

And so, they prolong Alex’s torture by forcing him to stay in the water while Terry gives him a humiliating inspection. Looking Alex’s injured, lean, freezing cold body over for ‘indecencies,’ Terry takes out a large sponge and a wooden bathing brush, working both items against Alex’s sensitive skin, making the smaller lad cry out in pain by using all his strength. Alex gasps when Terry rubs the sponge down both his legs and turns away with embarrassment. The tears are glistening in his eyes again – something which could be brought on by the cold, the shock from coming so close to actually drowning, or by the humiliation all at once. When Terry applies some more soap onto the brush and runs it down Alex’s backside harshly, using enough force to draw blood, Alex bites his lip and struggles to keep quiet. Terry is intentionally focusing in on Alex’s most horrible and delicate bruises, fondling them, prodding them cruelly in order to cause the other as much pain as he can. He is rubbing Alex’s skin raw, despite the fact that there are no stains to clean.

“Open up,” Harry tells Alex as he fetches a smaller bar of soap from the cupboard along with a toothbrush. “I bet your mouth is as filthy as the rest of you, you little punk.”

Forcing the bar of soap into Alex’s open mouth, Harry then inserts the toothbrush, scrubbing Alex’s teeth meanly until small bubbles are foaming from Alex’s mouth, making him whimper and cringe at the horrible taste. Harry further shoves the toothbrush into the back of his mouth, making Alex retch and gag in protest.

“Spit,” Harry commands finally, liberating Alex from his ordeal. When Alex obeys and spits out the soap into the water, Miles freezes when he sees that the bar is now covered in fresh blood. It must have appeared after getting in contact with Alex’s burn wound from yesterday. Harry probably made the wound erupt by brushing over it.

“You are god damn gross, you know that?” Perry calls from across the room, spitting at the floor whilst eyeing Alex irately. 

The blood is trailing down Alex chin before Terry wipes it off with the sponge. Alex doesn’t say anything; he only shakes, letting his tears spill. He’s so cold now that his lips are an even darker blue than before.

“Get up,” Terry then decides, tossing the sponge aside. “We’re done here. Get up, moron, don’t make me repeat myself!”

Miles holds his breath anxiously as Alex struggles to move his limbs. He’s trembling so bad, and he’s hurting; he barely has enough energy to clutch onto the brink and pull himself to his knees. Yet, after a couple of failed attempts, Alex emerges from the water and straightens his legs, regaining his balance as he stands up in the middle of the tub. Wrapping his quivering arms around his own middle, he pauses, waiting for the next instruction to come. A silent tear is rolling down his cheek subtly, but Miles sees it.

Miles also sees his body for the first time, completely uncovered. Alex’s protruding hipbones are, arguably, something to worry about; he’s always been thin enough as it was, and though Miles knows perfectly well what it’s like to be thin, Alex is beginning to look malnourished. Weak. How could Alex’s body possibly resist and stand against the violence that these barbarians are subjecting him to? Even worse, Miles is now fully able to spot the extent and seriousness of all his bruises, scratches and marks. Now that Alex’s skin is so white, almost like an empty canvas, the black, yellow and purple swellings make out one horrible contrast. Especially Alex’s ribs have taken a nasty blow; Miles is now reminded as he observes the battered skin, the way that Alex crumbles and winces with anguish as he attempts to straighten his back. However, it isn’t just that he’s suffered one particularly serious injury; it’s that there are so many of them, so many wounds and sores, causing him trouble and difficulty. Miles suddenly has no idea how the fuck Alex is even coping. Because despite his tears, Alex hasn’t surrendered or given in. Even when he thought that he might never come up for air again, Alex has remained brave – so much stronger than anyone Miles has ever witnessed before.

And then he knows. Despite his injuries, Alex’s spirit is shining through beautifully. He IS beautiful, from top to toe. Miles can’t take his eyes off him. Alex’s naked build is the most endearing, stunning, wonderful, and pure thing that Miles has ever beheld. Though Alex is avoiding everyone’s stares in shame, Miles knows that they’ve got nothing on him: Nothing about Alex is sordid, corrupt, or filthy. Absolutely nothing. He’s perfect.

Perhaps Ruth catches Miles looking at him with an admiration that is just slightly too apparent for her liking. Because suddenly, she throws a towel at her nephew and orders Alex to cover himself up. That is when she huffs and turns her attention back on Miles.

“Hope you’ve enjoyed the show, son. It’s time for you to give me what you owe me. Follow me upstairs, now. My boys will show your little friend back to his room.”

 

*

 

Ruth must have decided that it’s too risky to allow Miles back in her kitchen, in case someone was to ring her doorbell again. Because she drags him all the way up to the first floor this time, showing him the way into her private bedroom – the bedroom, which used to belong to David and Penny. Terry follows with them, of course. In case Miles is to make a foolish mistake and needs stopping.

“Take a seat,” Ruth offers perfectly kindly, though Miles knows that she is anything but, “make yourself comfortable.”

She gestures towards a large desk facing the wall. It doesn’t take her long to provide Miles with a pen and some paper, too. 

“Were you actually going to let Alex drown if I hadn’t agreed to do this for you?” Miles asks her bitterly as he takes a seat, sulking at Terry who’s standing behind him like a prison guard. “I mean, would you actually let him die under your care?” Miles huffs. “Sorry – ‘care’ isn’t the right word.”

“Don’t be such a fucking smart-arse,” Terry warns him, but Ruth doesn’t seem to mind a bit of small-talk.

“You raise an interesting point,” she replies calmly, drawing her curtains together neatly so that no one from outside can peek into the room. “In the heat of the moment, who knows what I might be capable of?” She giggles evilly as she’s deliberately trying to upset Miles. “However, I’ve never had to get rid of a dead body before. I would have to plan that more carefully. Otherwise, I’m not sure I’d be able to get away with it.”

Miles keeps quiet, deciding not to take the bait even as Terry starts laughing. She’s got to be joking, anyway, or so he tells himself. She wouldn’t dare to actually kill Alex. If that was truly part of her plan, surely she would keep that grotesque admission to herself instead of informing Miles.

“What did you want me to write?” He grumbles, looking away from them both. There is no point in wasting any more time. The sooner he can return to check up on Alex, the better. 

“What’s the rush?” Ruth muses, sensing Miles’s discomfort. “Are you not happy to be let out of the basement for a while? I thought you’d appreciate this… change of scenery.” 

“Yeah, well, not when Alex is left behind I don’t,” Miles retorts honestly, “besides, it doesn’t actually feel that comforting when you are both looking over my shoulder.”

“Hm,” Ruth chuckles with feigned surprise, “our guest is not happy, Terrence. What to do?”

“Do you want me to shut him up for you, Mum?”

“No – no, Terrence, darling,” Ruth shakes her head, “I want to make our guest realise that I’m not the bad person he thinks I am. I want to remind him that I have treated him with nothing but kindness and generosity.” 

Miles looks up at them both, swallowing nervously. 

“What are you going to do?” Terry questions curiously.

Ruth hesitates for a moment. “I am going to make him breakfast,” she responds unexpectedly, “even though he’s probably too ungrateful to appreciate it. And you are going to keep an eye on him in the meantime, making sure he’s comfortable. Put on the telly for him or something. Entertain him. I don’t care. I don’t want him to be able to complain about a single thing.”

Terry looks surprised and so does Miles. 

“Are you for real?” Terry groans. “You want me to watch telly with him? What am I? His babysitter? What has he done to deserve such royal treatment?”

“Terrence, darling, don’t be difficult,” Ruth says, putting him in his place, “do as I say. After all, he’s just a stupid, innocent kid who got caught up in your cousin’s depravity. He’s a victim, so let’s make it up to him. Just make sure he stays here, will you? I will be back shortly.”

Unbelievably, Miles is almost disheartened to see Ruth leave; being alone with Terry suddenly seems a hundred times scarier than being surrounded by the entire family all at once. If Terry should feel tempted to take his anger out on Miles, there is no one around to stop him. But all Terry does is scowl as he throws himself on his mother’s double-sized bed and reaches for the remote lazily. 

“Alright, faggot, you heard her. Stay put – I get to choose the channel.”

Flicking through all the programmes, from horrible to worse, Terry makes himself comfortable and seems to be ignoring Miles who is simply sat there, silently feeling anxious and confused. When Terry eventually decides to go with Jeremy Kyle, Miles is utterly unable to concentrate on the content; lost in thought, he looks down at his own feet, secretly wishing he had the guts to throw something in Terry’s face and make a run for it. The door is unlocked, he’s certain of that. But would he really be able to make it all the way downstairs before someone catches up with him and restrains him again? Unlikely. 

Terry chuckles darkly when a girl on the show breaks down crying, claiming that her father abused her when she was a child. Feeling sickened and tired with it all, Miles turns his back on him, and away from the screen. The question of his and Alex’s safety is keeping him occupied; there is no way in hell that he’s able to really listen to what’s being said. 

“Crazy, ugly bitch,” Terry snorts, punching one of the pillows by his side, “you’re so fat and useless, no wonder your dad had his way with you. He should have done all of us a favour and chopped your fat head off.”

Miles supresses a gag. Looking away in despair and anger, he counts to ten before he settles down. Then he spots something on the floor, underneath the wooden desk. A small bin with something in it.

“Shut your fucking mouth, you cunt,” Terry utters, deeply captivated by the show, “you belong in a kitchen, you cow. You’re a woman, so you only have half a brain, any man knows that.”

Miles cringes. There’s a piece of curled-up paper in the bin looking a lot like a small photograph. He’s only able to see a small part of the frame, but something catches his eye. Arms wrapped around a small boy. A warm and loving gesture, which couldn’t possibly picture Ruth or any of her sons. 

“I’d love to teach you a lesson, bitch…” Terry continues, forgetting all about Miles. “Let me show you what happens to worthless whores when they can’t keep their mouth shut…”

Quickly, Miles bows forward and reaches for the photograph in the bin before Terry sees him moving. As soon as he grasps it with his fingers, he stuffs it inside his pocket without even looking at it first, scared that they are going to find it and take it away from him. He then straightens his back, struggling hard to not attract any attention to himself. 

“Oi, cock-muncher!” Terry suddenly calls, causing Miles to jerk. “I told you to sit still, didn’t I? I ought to knee you in the groin for fidgeting like that. I’m actually trying to watch this…”

“Sorry,” Miles mouths, though he’s much too outraged to take any shit from a homophobic, misogynist, narcissistic arsehole like him. Perhaps Terry can tell that he doesn’t mean it.

“You better be careful, you little tit,” Terry retorts with quick fury, “you’ve seen what happens to bitches who talk too much, haven’t you? Trust me, it’s not pretty…”

An unexplainable urge to rebel against the bigger bloke’s unjust self-righteousness overpowers Miles, and he’s unable to stop himself: 

“Have you ever had a girlfriend, Terry? Did someone reject you, perhaps? You seem kind of bitter.”

Terry gapes furiously as he jumps out of bed, immediately on the warpath. Nearing Miles aggressively, he flexes his muscles – though it’s mostly fat – and hovers above him in order to make him recoil. 

“You better be soiling yourself right now, kiddo,” he alerts Miles, “because one more word out of you and I will strangle you using my bare hands!”

The door to the bedroom opens suddenly and Ruth steps in, carrying a large plate and a tall glass of orange juice. Miles and Terry both turn their heads, stilling themselves. Ruth sees the way that Terry is looming before Miles and it doesn’t take long to figure out what’s going on. 

“Terrence, stop harassing him,” Ruth commands, shaking her head incredulously, “I can’t even leave you alone with him for ten minutes, can I? I’ve told you, if you need to blow off some steam, take it out on Alexander.”

Miles glares crossly at that remark.

“He’s not as fucking innocent as you think he is, Mum,” Terry retorts indignantly, eying Miles with resentment, “he can’t keep his fucking mouth shut, and it pisses me off!”

“It’s not about him being innocent or not,” Ruth elaborates, putting down the breakfast plate before Miles, “it’s about what we need from him, do you hear me? You have to leave him alone, because we need his cooperation.” 

“Is that why you set me up?” Miles intervenes suddenly, though he shouldn’t be pushing his luck. “Is that why you tricked me into coming to your house? Because you think I will help you?” Miles huffs with disgust. “Did you actually think I would be on your side?”

Ruth seems annoyed with his outburst at first. Then she merely smiles, seemingly amused by his confidence.

“I never exactly invited you over to my house, boy. Remember that. You came out of your own free will. You chose to meddle in.”

“You know what I’m talking about,” Miles grunts, “Alex already told me that the text message wasn’t from him. You sent me the message the night that you decided to lock Alex up in your basement. You sent me that message, pretending to be Alex. You knew I would come looking, it was your plan all along to get me here!”

“See, that’s what I’m talking about!” Terry yells, irked. “He needs to mind his own business!” 

Ruth ignores her son, but stares at Miles with fixation.

“Did Alexander really tell you that?” Her face remains neutral and emotionless. “That boy talks too much,” she then remarks chillingly, “he will come to regret that.”

Miles feels a shiver running through his body; a shiver of impending disaster, which he feels powerless to stop.

“Why are you doing this to us?” He whispers suddenly, feeling broken and desperate. “Why the fuck are you doing this?”

“Eat your breakfast,” Ruth tells him sternly, pushing the full plate forward and handing Miles the glass of orange juice, “when you’re done with that, I am going to tell you exactly what to write in that letter. It’s going to take us some time, however, because we need to remove all fingerprints from the paper. Then we need to add your fingerprints unto the paper again, otherwise it would look suspicious. It is very important that you do exactly as I tell you, lad. If not, you will have broken our agreement and I can promise you that something bad is going to happen. Do you understand?”

Miles is absolutely speechless. No – he doesn’t understand at all.

 

*

 

It’s the guilt of smelling of sausages and bacon, which causes Miles to hate himself as he returns to the basement almost two hours later. It’s the guilt of seeing Alex chained to the wall once again, this time with both wrists pinned above his head helplessly, which forces Miles to lower his head in shame. It’s the guilt of seeing Alex wearing nothing but a black t-shirt and a pair of blue shorts, which has Miles wincing with remorse. They are deliberately trying to make him freeze to death, it seems. Otherwise they wouldn’t have left him with even more bared skin than before. His hair is still slightly wet from the ice-cold bath that they forced upon him. His limbs are still white and trembling from the cold, although it appears that at least his lips have turned back to pink.

The cold is causing Alex so much agony, he doesn’t even look up from the ground when the door is opened and Terry shoves Miles back inside. He just trembles and trembles. Miles is chained by the ankle again, although at least he’s still given the freedom of moving around. He walks towards Alex immediately, though Ruth stops him as she reappears behind Terry.

“You did well in helping me,” she tells Miles appraisingly, intending for Alex to hear her, “I am convinced that you and I will become trusted allies before long. You would be clever to stay loyal to me, boy. Only good things can come from that. I will make sure to reward you.”

She’s carrying a duvet and a smaller blanket in her arms. She has decided to grant Miles one of his wishes after all; though he would rather that she had allowed Alex to eat, this is a good start. Perhaps Miles can persuade her to offer them more luxuries down here after a short time. But for now, he is eager to be alone with Alex so that he can wrap him up in the duvet and help him regain some body heat.

What Miles doesn’t want Alex to know is that while he was upstairs, Ruth insisted that he took a shower in the bathroom where the hot water hasn’t been switched off. And though Miles had felt so achingly embarrassed to accept such an unfair offer, a privilege which Alex certainly hasn’t been given, he had known that he would be a fool to say no. There was no point in Miles playing a martyr for Alex; if he had refused to shower in hot water just because Alex couldn’t, it wouldn’t have done either one of them any good. Although, in his lack of moral support, Miles does now feel more guilty than ever. Here he is, showing up in front of Alex after they have fed him and treated him to a hot shower – he is practically rubbing it in Alex’s face now. Because despite everything, Miles’s hands aren’t the ones shaking and freezing, and his stomach isn’t the one growling with hunger. In other words, Miles’s comfort must be a huge slap in Alex’s face.

Ruth has lent Miles some of Alex’s clothes as she has offered to wash his own. While Alex has only been granted a t-shirt and a pair of shorts, Miles has been permitted to wear long trousers, a warm sweater and woollen socks. It’s another way for her to humiliate her nephew; not only has she refused Alex what is rightfully his. She is now giving it all to Miles instead, forcing Miles to steal away the possessions that could have helped Alex to stay warm and healthy. Since they are pretty much the same size, Alex’s clothes are a fine fit on Miles’s body, though the trousers are slightly shorter than his own would have been.

Terry takes a look at Alex, keen to see his reaction when he looks up and sees Miles wearing what is his. It is no secret that both he and his mum are secretly hoping that – by treating the two boys so cruelly different – this injustice will force them to resent each other and make them fall out with one another. Miles feels certain that there is nothing in the world that they would rather achieve than to ruin his and Alex’s friendship and destroy their love for each other. 

“Hey, simpleton!” Terry calls, obliging Alex to look over at them. “Looks like someone stole the clothes your dead mummy bought for you!”

Alex raises his head and the knot in Miles’s stomach grows instantly tighter. He discovers that the blood is once again trailing down from Alex’s lip. Either his burn wound is still bleeding, or Harry and Perry have been hitting him again. Alex doesn’t show any interest in Terry’s words, or in Miles’s outfit. He’s in too much pain; all he can care about are the chains clattering against the wall as he shudders and squirms, his body constantly aching. 

“He’s too stupid to understand you,” Ruth jokes, chuckling quietly.

“Look at the size of those clothes, anyway,” Terry sniggers meanly, “only a child ought to fit into that. They are both too skinny to be real men. Poofters.”

Alex’s face is expressionless. He appears to know that it’s best to stay quiet, unless he’s told otherwise. Miles is watching him guiltily, unsure as to what to do. Terry continues to mock them both for a while longer, after which Ruth drops the duvet and the blanket to the floor, deciding that she can no longer stand to be in this cold and clammy basement.

“I will see you for supper,” she tells Miles, ignoring Alex completely as she turns her back on them and gets ready to leave, “good job on the letter.”

As soon as they are alone, Miles rushes to Alex’s side, squatting down beside him, apologising desperately.

“I’m so sorry,” Miles whimpers, pressing one kiss to Alex’s forehead after another, “I’m so sorry for what they did to you. I – I tried to stop them, but I couldn’t!”

Alex’s skin is freezing cold as Miles runs his hand over his naked thigh, touching him as lightly as he can. He can feel the goosebumps everywhere on Alex’s body and Alex gasps breathlessly at the feeling of Miles’s warm hand.

“I-it’s not your f-fault,” Alex stammers painfully, looking into Miles’s eyes, “I know you t-tried to h-help me, Miles…”

“Here,” Miles utters, reaching for the duvet, “let me help you this time.” He covers Alex’s body immediately, wrapping the duvet around him as tightly as possible to ensure that he’ll get warm. He then drapes the blanket over Alex’s shoulders, though it’s difficult with both his arms pinned against the wall. Miles rubs at Alex’s legs, through the thick material of the duvet, trying to enhance his circulation. 

“Thanks,” Alex whispers, smiling weakly, “I c-can’t believe… she g-gave us these…”

“It took a lot of convincing,” Miles admits. “I’m so sorry for helping her write that letter, Alex. I didn’t want to help her, believe me. I just had to do it. They – they could have drowned you in that tub if I hadn’t agreed to do it.”

“I underst-stand,” Alex nods, closing his eyes in deep concentration. Though he is still hurting, it appears that the duvet has already brought him some comfort. “You b-better do what she asks… every t-time, Mi. It’s t-too dangerous to… turn her d-down.”

“But I hate that she’s in control like that!” Miles utters with fury, raising his voice though this isn’t Alex’s fault. “The last thing I want to do is help that bitch! I hate myself for letting her use me like that!”

Miles pauses when Alex starts coughing excruciatingly, suddenly unable to stop himself. The coughing is sounding much worse than it did this morning and Alex can barely breathe through it.

“Christ,” Miles breathes, clutching the other’s shoulder. Seeing as Alex is trapped against the wall, Miles isn’t even able to slap his back. “Are you okay?”

Alex coughs frantically, his chest heaving and his fists clenching. 

“I’ll – be – fine,” Alex finally manages, though he’s still trying to clear his throat, “I’m just feeling a bit… lightheaded.”

“That would be from not eating, I guess,” Miles says with concern, taking in Alex’s ashen complexion. “You’re getting really ill, Alex. I’m – I’m starting to feel scared.”

“It’s not that b-bad,” Alex mutters, inhaling sharply, “I just need to… breathe… for a moment.” He hesitates, exhaling slowly. Miles runs a hand through his hair when he doesn’t know what else to do to make things better. “Anyway,” Alex rasps, “what did she m-make you write? In the l-letter, I mean.”

“That doesn’t matter now,” Miles sighs. “You only need to worry about getting warm. It’s just a stupid letter, after all. Doesn’t mean that people will stop looking for us.”

“Right. I mean, I g-guess you’re right.”

Miles presses another kiss to Alex’s hair, soothing him. If Alex loses faith now, he won’t have the strength to deal with his torments for much longer.

“Are you in pain?” Miles then asks him, looking Alex over one more time. He wipes away the blood from Alex’s mouth using the back of his hand. “They’ve been hitting you again, haven’t they?”

“I – I don’t wanna talk about it,” Alex murmurs, avoiding Miles’s accusing eyes. “I mean… it’s nothing n-new, is it?”

“Fuck’s sake, Alex, you’re injured enough as it is. What the hell are they thinking?” Miles complains, choosing the wrong person to express his anger to. “I can’t even point to a single part of your body that isn’t covered in bruises.”

“Let it go, Mi,” Alex begs tiredly, resting his head against the wall. “There’s nothing we can d-do about it, anyway.”

Miles holds his tongue, though it isn’t easy. He can’t help but to notice that Alex seems to have picked up a new name for him, one that he’s never used before. Even though this little abbreviation is rather loving, rather endearing, Miles can’t feel anything but despair. But why? This isn’t even about him. It’s about Alex, and what can be done to help him through this nightmare.

“I need to show you something, Al. Something that I hope will make you feel better,” Miles whispers with forced composure, stroking Alex’s cheek tenderly. He hopes that he’s making the right decision because this is meant to give Alex strength instead of upsetting him. “I – I found something upstairs, when I was in Ruth’s bedroom. She was going to bin it, but I managed to hide it in my pocket before anyone saw me. It was a little difficult because I had to change into these trousers, but I managed to take it with me without them finding out. It clearly belongs to you, so I thought you should have it. But we have to hide it carefully.”

Alex looks up at him, slightly puzzled and taken aback by this. However, it’s obvious that Miles has got his attention.

“What – what is it?” Alex asks quietly, his voice shaking faintly. His eyes are big with curiosity, making him look impossibly young.

Miles bites his lip nervously. He has no idea how Alex is going to react to this. Slowly, without further ado, Miles reaches for his pocket and begins to pull out the small, curled-up photograph that Ruth had disposed of so carelessly. He takes it out and attempts to straighten it before holding it up before Alex’s eyes. 

“Here,” he whispers gently, showing it to Alex. 

The photograph shows David and Penny when they were younger. David has his arm around Penny’s back, and Penny is holding what looks like a two-year-old Alex in her arms, hugging him close to her chest. When he first saw it, Miles immediately noted toddler Alex’s mischievous smile; his small and innocent features laughing at something out of focus; presumably the photographer. He’s got his little arm stretched out, waving happily. He was as adorable back then as he is now, Miles has decided. Penny’s smile is blissful. She’s holding onto her son protectively, careful not to drop him even as Alex twists in her arms, eager to see what’s going on behind him. Meanwhile, David seems entertained by it all. Rather than looking into the camera, he is watching his son’s mischiefs with amusement and perhaps pride, too.

Alex watches the photograph disbelievingly. Miles observes him in anticipation, noticing the way that Alex turns completely still. As he stares at the photograph with fixation, Alex’s shoulders slump and his eyes grow intense. It becomes clear to Miles that he’s reminiscing – remembering. It’s been a while since the accident already and since Alex last saw his parents. It all happened so fast, so out of the blue – there was never any chance to say some final words, nor any time to say goodbye. Alex just lost them from one moment to another, and that was that. After a while, when he decides that he cannot look at the photograph any longer, Alex blinks, trying to hide the fact that his eyes are brimming.

“Thanks, Miles,” he whispers vulnerably, looking suddenly very serious and melancholic, “this used to be one of my Mum’s favourite pictures.”

“Alex, I’m so sorry,” Miles sighs, feeling horribly despaired, “I’m so sorry about everything.”

“Don’t be.” Alex attempts to smile, though it must be very painful for him. “I’m just – I’m just glad you m-managed to save this one. S-she’s already binned a lot of my parents’ stuff. Ruth, I mean.”

After another while, Miles hides the photograph inside the fabric of the mattress, terrified that Ruth might pay them a surprise visit. If she saw Alex in possession of this, there is no doubt that she would take it away from him without hesitation.

“Are you feeling any warmer?” Miles asks after a moment of deep silence. He fastens the duvet even tighter around Alex’s frame. Alex has fallen into a rather distant and withdrawn state of mind, but Miles knows that he must be lost in thought. 

Instead of answering Miles’s question, Alex asks suddenly:

“Do you think my Mum will still be alive when we get out of here?”

He seems to be forgetting that even if his mother is still kept on life-support in the hospital, this doesn’t mean that she’s still truly alive; Penny would still be unable to gain consciousness, she would still be unable to open her eyes and recognise her own son. Besides, who is to say if they will, in fact, ever escape this hellish prison cell? Feeling sort of heartbroken by Alex’s question, Miles barely knows what to say.

“I – I don’t know, love,” Miles utters truthfully, though Alex had hoped to hear something else, “I hope so.”

Feeling like he’s suddenly let him down, Miles tackles his own guilt by resting his head gently against Alex’s shoulder and pressing a soft kiss to his cold cheek. Because what else are you supposed to do when the best friend you’ve ever had is chained to a bloody wall, too busy grieving the loss of his parents to fret for his own life?

“I love you,” Miles reminds him quietly, realising that this is the only gesture that he’s still able to show him without compromise. “More than anything in the world.”

“I love you too, Mi,” Alex whispers, remaining painfully still.

 

*

 

After another two days of not eating, Alex has fallen so weak and exhausted that Miles decides that this cannot continue any longer. Though he had sworn never to be the one to cause Alex any pain, Miles is now so desperate, he is willing to hurt him if that’s what it takes to keep him alive. He’s negotiated with Ruth, frantically and urgently, but unfortunately for him, Ruth realises that he’s in no position to bargain.

“A slap to his face will no longer do,” Ruth tells Miles with cruel amusement, “you should have taken that deal while you still could, boy.”

“What – what do you want me to do, then?” Miles asks with both fear and indictment. “Please… I’m begging you! He’ll die if you keep starving him!”

“I’ll show you exactly what I want you to do,” Ruth taunts. “Just promise me you won’t chicken out of our agreement. Otherwise, I’ll make sure that that bastard never eats anything again.”

A few hours later, Miles finds himself shaking as they seize Alex and tie him up with ropes attached to a hook in the ceiling. With his arms stretched out and his hands bound together above his head, Alex is slightly lifted from the ground as he’s barely even able to stand on his tippy-toes. They’ve stripped him off his shirt, leaving his already bruised backside utterly exposed. Alex sways weakly, struggling to keep his balance. He has no idea what is going on, or what is about to happen. They are all stood behind him, where he can’t see them. Terry and his brothers are all sniggering and humiliating him by pointing their fingers, but really – Miles is the worst of them all. And Alex doesn’t even realise yet.

Terry approaches Alex in order to stuff a gag into his mouth, but Ruth stops him.

“No,” she says, “I want him to be able to scream. After all, we must take advantage of the fact that this basement is soundproof.”

Miles’s hands are trembling and trying hard to resist when they hand him over the chosen instrument for Alex’s torture. A long and thick leather whip, which looks like it was designed to handle a herd of cattle, perhaps – not a small and fragile human boy. 

“Wow,” Harry breathes with fascination, “I didn’t know you had this, Mum.”

“I bought it a long time ago,” Ruth grins, “I have always hoped to find a reason to test it.” She now turns to Miles. “Alright, lad – it’s time for you to hold up your end of the agreement. I want you to strike him. Hard. Don’t try to soften the blows, because I will be able to tell. If you don’t do as I tell you, our deal is off the table.”

Miles is too terrified to reply. He feels the weight of the whip in his hands, horrified by its hard, rough material. He has never considered himself to be a cruel or unkind person. In fact, Miles has always taken a pride in wanting good things only for other people – even those who used to laugh at him in school. But now, he’s no longer sure what to call himself. A coward? A bully in disguise? How on earth can he claim himself to be any better than Terry and his tyrant brothers? 

“I – I’m not sure I know how to use this,” Miles stutters lamely, stalling. He is watching Alex’s visible spine, the delicate curve of his back. It looks like this whip is powerful enough to break him in half… 

“Do you want me to demonstrate how it’s done?” Terry threatens impatiently, sniggering meanly. “I’ll show you how to put your back into it.”

“No!” Miles gasps, clutching the horrific instrument with fear. “No – I’ll – I’ll do it…” 

It appears that Alex is finally beginning to understand. He struggles against his restraints, trying to look over his shoulder.

“Miles,” he begs suddenly, and so heartbreakingly, that Miles no longer knows what to do, “please… Don’t do it! Don’t…”

“Alex,” Miles whimpers, “I have to… You know I do.”

“No!” Alex struggles again, causing Miles to choke with emotion, unable to breathe. “No, please – not this way! Not like this…”

“Enough!” Ruth cuts him off, rolling her eyes at her nephew’s objections. “We don’t have all day. So what’s it going to be, lad?”

Miles hesitates, feeling the tears spilling down both cheeks. 

“Alex, I’m sorry,” he sobs, raising his hand, readying himself, “you have to forgive me…”

“Miles, please!” Alex cries one final time. “I’m begging you!”

“Do it!” Ruth shouts, pushing Miles over the edge. “Do it now!”

Miles closes his eyes, swings the whip forward, hard, letting it strike Alex in between his shoulder blades. Alex falls forward as the sound from a mighty whack reaches Miles’s ears, chilling him to the bone. Alex screams in hideous pain, but Miles only strikes him again.

Because he loves Alex, after all, and he needs him to survive.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ruth persuaded Miles to whip Alex and now, Alex must be persuaded to forgive Miles. However, with their friendship being tested, it seems that forgiveness can, sometimes, evoke a jumble of mixed (and amorous) feelings...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry that it's taking me so long to update these days. I swear it's because these chapters are getting longer and harder to write, and not because I'm forgetting about the story. Trust me, I've been working on this one every day for the past three weeks! To everyone still reading, thank you for the patience :)) Enjoy x

Three days after Mr and Mrs Kane have reported Miles missing, Matt, Jamie and Nick are gathered at the Helders’ house after school, trying to make sense of everything. It barely takes an idiot to put the pieces together and realise that Miles’s disappearance is linked with Alex’s, but since this morning, the entire situation has been made even more mysterious by the discovery of a hand-written letter sent directly to the Kanes’ house, signed from their own son. In this unexpected letter, Miles himself has – apparently – explained to his folks that he’s with Alex, that they are both safe, and that they’ve both left home by choice and do not wish to be tracked down by anybody. 

“Rubbish,” Nick groans when the gang sits down to discuss the content of Miles’s letter, “I don’t believe it for a second. Kane didn’t know where Alex was – he was the most upset one when Alex went missing. He went out of his way to search for him. If he had known all along where Alex was, he would have told us. He wouldn’t have run away with him.”

“Then why does Miles claim to be with him right now?” Jamie ponders, rubbing his forehead exhaustedly. “His parents recognised the handwriting. They say the letter is definitely from him.”

“But there wasn’t any note from Alex,” Nick remarks, “so there is no actual evidence that Miles is with him.”

“Kane isn’t known to be a liar,” Jamie persists, “he knows how worried we’ve all been about Alex. He wouldn’t lie about something so serious. Alex is like a brother to us and he knows that. If Alex wasn’t with him, he wouldn’t have given us false hope.” 

Matt has been quiet for a moment, but now he exhales uneasily.

“Miles said something to me before he went missing,” he starts, bringing an end to Nick and Jamie’s debate, “he told me that he knew Alex wasn’t dead. He told me that he was going to go after him, and bring him back to us. And after that, Miles disappeared, too.” 

Nick and Jamie are looking slightly bewildered. The questions are many, the answers are painfully unsatisfying. Why hasn’t Matt mentioned this until now? Because he didn’t take Miles seriously at the time. Why didn’t Matt go after him? Because Miles caught him off guard, in a moment of weakness. What should they do with this information? Nothing; if anything, this only coheres with the statements made in Miles’s letter, meaning that, perhaps, this could all be true. Miles could have actually found Alex and they could be together right this minute.

However, Miles stated something troubling in his letter. In justifying his and Alex’s reasons for running away, he claimed that the two felt pushed – or driven – away after receiving an unkind treatment in school. Not at home, not in Alex’s house, but in school. 

“I always assumed that Alex’s evil-bitch aunt was the problem,” Matt whispers with mortification, recalling Miles’s hint of accusation in the letter, “I thought she was the reason why Alex had to escape. But maybe it was us. We drove him away, and now Miles, too.”

“Are you insane?” Nick retorts, denying this theory. “Why the fuck would Alex run away because of us?”

“Miles wrote that…”

“We fucking know what Miles wrote,” Jamie cuts Matt off, “and yeah, even though he claims the issue to be school-related and not home-related, that doesn’t mean it has anything to do with us. We’re Alex’s best mates for crying out loud. Not his bullies.”

“Yeah,” Nick agrees, “if Miles was actually referring to any school bullies, it would sooner have been pricks like Luke Pritchard. That arse-clown has already given them enough grief. Miles fought him, so Luke has been harassing Alex in the hallways ever since. Or that bitch, Taylor, who’s never been able to leave him alone. She’s clingy enough to make any guy run away from her. Still, though – what they did is nothing in comparison to Alex’s insane cousins. I’m surprised Miles didn’t rat out the Sharpe family – he could have written to the police and told them what’s going on. He could have told them about Alex’s bruises. Ruth would probably get arrested instantly.” 

“I don’t understand Miles,” Jamie says suddenly, “instead of helping Alex run away, he should have brought him back. If they both came back, we would all be able to help them. We could make Alex’s problems at home go away, if only he trusted us enough to let us take action. What the hell are they thinking?”

“You’re forgetting something,” Matt interrupts with a shake of his head. “Last time we saw Alex, we were all busy ignoring him and giving him the silence treatment. For all he knows, we could still be mad at him. The last thing I said to him before he went missing was…” Matt pauses, swallowing with difficulty. “That – that I would never forgive him for his mistakes. I blamed him for everything’s that’s happened, even for the abuse that he’s been receiving at home. They say you must never blame the victim in these cases, but I did. Maybe he thinks I hate him. Maybe… maybe that’s what Miles is talking about. Maybe I’m the reason he ran away.”

Jamie and Nick are now watching Matt with astonishment, taking his words in sorrowfully.

“Matt…” Jamie sighs. “Al didn’t run away because of you. No matter what happened that last time we saw him. He just – he just wouldn’t. You’ve known him all your life. He knows you could never hate him.”

“Oh yeah?” Matt raises his chin, a dark, gloomy look spreading across his features. “I’m not so sure. We let him down, Jamie. Big, fucking time. We let him down when he needed us the most. All I’m saying is that… We abandoned Alex before he even abandoned us.”

 

*

 

The police spend the following days investigating the content of Miles’s mysterious letter. Investigators are able to verify the fact that it’s Miles’s fingerprints found on the paper and no one else’s, meaning that it must have come from him. Alex’s fingerprints aren’t found at all – unfortunately, there is still no indication of his presence in any sense. There is still no evidence that Miles has found him, or that they’re both safe. No one can really know for sure what’s happened to them. For Matt, the biggest pain of all is the lack of proof that Alex is, in fact, still alive.

He’s never been separated from Alex for this amount of time before. Even that time when Alex went to Italy with his parents over the summer for two fucking weeks, Matt would still receive text messages from him every now and again because, at the end of the day, Alex was the type of person who got tired of the sun and of the beach and started to miss being around his friends at home. He had always been a sociable guy, though he preferred to stay close to the people who knew him the best. He was a loyal friend right from the start; if either Matt, or Jamie, or Nick, or anyone else needed him, he was there. Some days he would act all shy and quiet, especially if he was meeting new people. But most of the time, he would wear a sunny smile and laugh like a dork at his friends’ jokes, bringing nothing but exhilaration and happiness to the gang. Matt, in particular, had always been able to make him laugh, often without even trying hard. There was just something uplifting about Alex’s company; he loved banter, especially the cheeky kind. He loved it when people didn’t take themselves too seriously, and in general, he was just always looking for fun rather than trouble. 

For this reason, Matt is now unable to understand what has made him leave everyone behind so unpredictably. Alex wasn’t – isn’t, god damn it, why must Matt think about him in past tense? – one for dramatic scenes. He’s never been out to attract any attention to himself, in fact, Alex has always been extremely low key and modest. This isn’t like him at all and for this reason – without admitting this to Jamie and Nick – Matt is left to question the validity of Miles’s letter.

The police, on the other hand, are more inclined to take Miles’s statements seriously. Matt is nonplussed and baffled when a couple of their investigators show up at school a few days later in order to interrogate both teachers and students. Matt, Jamie and Nick are ignored, as they’ve already told the police everything they know. Matt has gone out of his way to make it clear to every authority figure that he’s been in touch with that Alex and Miles are both reliable, dependable friends who have never before acted like they wanted to disappear. Teachers, too, are able to confirm their stability and responsibility in school; when the police inquire whether or not these lads have been known to do drugs or commit any offences, everybody appears to agree that young Mr Turner and his close friend, Mr Kane, have always managed to stay out of trouble.

Ms. Hayworth describes Alex as a ‘kind,’ ‘clever’ and ‘well-liked’ boy who used to do well in her classes. Explaining that he struggled a lot after the death of his parents, she insists that his change of behaviour was only to be expected and that he never started to bother anyone around him. If anything, he only seemed to take his grief out on himself – not others. However, when the police interrogate a couple of fellow pupils from Alex and Miles’s classes, a couple of them claim that the two did make a few enemies. In this connection, Luke Pritchard and his cronies are blamed several times for causing Alex distress and for trying to bully both him and Miles on numerous occasions. And yet, when the police cross-examine Luke about these incidents, they are able to conclude that nothing criminal has been going on and that, most likely, Luke and his peers were never an actual threat to Alex and Miles. One little fist-fight certainly doesn’t seem like a serious enough reason to run away from home like this.

The investigation carries on for a couple of hours. However, when the police leave the school property after asking as many questions as they can, Matt notices Taylor walking out from the girls’ room on her own, looking over her shoulder almost nervously. She’s been avoiding the interrogations and suddenly, Matt is confident that she’s hiding something.

“Taylor!” He then calls, running up to her. “Hold on a second.”

“Helders,” she exclaims, turning away from Matt with annoyance, “what do you want? I’m busy.”

“Busy avoiding the police, I assume,” Matt grunts at her, making no effort whatsoever to sugarcoat his resentment for her, “why didn’t you talk to them? You used to be one of Alex’s closest friends. They could have done with some more information.”

“I’ve talked to them already,” she claims, though Matt knows this to be a lie, “besides, I’ve got nothing new to tell them. It’s not like I know anything you guys don’t.”

“That’s not the point,” Matt tells her, “the police are just trying to paint a picture of Alex and Miles. They were getting people to describe them.”

“Yeah, well, what do you want me to tell them?” Taylor flicks her hair impatiently and crosses her arms. “That Alex is a selfish bastard and his friend Miles a complete loser? If that’s what the police want to know, I’d be happy to tell them…”

“Oh, cut the crap!” Matt curses, his patience wearing even thinner than hers. “I know that’s not how you really feel, so stop pretending. You still love Alex, you always have. And yeah, it must have sucked to learn that he didn’t love you back,” Matt admits, “but that doesn’t give you the right to hate him. He never did anything to deliberately hurt your feelings, Taylor. In fact, he felt really bad when he saw how devastated you were.”

“I never needed his fucking pity!” Taylor spits. “How fucking pathetic do you all think I am? I am over him, do you hear me? I couldn’t care less about where he is. In fact, I hope I never have to see his face again. He can lie dead somewhere for all I care!”

“You better watch what you say,” Matt warns her, seized by an overwhelming urge to punch his fist into the wall, “god damn it! You’re lucky I don’t hit girls…”

“Is that a threat, Helders?” Taylor smiles nastily, reminding Matt that she’s no innocent martyr. “You better leave me alone, do you understand? I’ve made new friends now. Believe me – you don’t want to mess with them, or with me. I don’t care how tough you think you are, they will floor you in just a second…”

“Taylor, for crying out loud!” Matt finds himself suddenly pleading. “I don’t care if Alex hurt your feelings! This is much more important than your wounded pride, can’t you fucking see that? If you know something, just tell the police! You have to help him…”

“What exactly is it that you think I know?” She snarls in self-defence. “Are you really accusing me of keeping secrets?”

“Any idiot can tell you’re hiding something,” Matt snorts, glaring at her with offense. “You’ve been avoiding a lot of people since Alex disappeared. You’ve been awfully quiet, haven’t you? Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

“You don’t know shit,” Taylor huffs, looking away.

“You’re lying to yourself, too, aren’t you?” Matt prods. “You think you’ve forgotten about your friendship with Alex, but you haven’t! Deep down, you miss him just as much as I do.”

“You’re wrong,” she hisses, shaking her head stubbornly, “now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m sick and tired of having this debate over and over again. If you say his name just one more time, I swear-“

“Who else have you been having this debate with?” Matt questions with newly found interest, watching her stare falter with uncertainty. “Has anyone else been asking you questions?”

“Let it go,” Taylor snaps at him, taking a step backwards as she’s getting ready to flee the scene, “I’m not hiding anything, you wanker. Alex has chosen to walk out on a lot of people, it seems, and you can’t blame his abandonment on me. Do yourself a favour and forget about him, because he’s not worth the trouble. Now, leave me alone.”

Matt watches Taylor spin around and leave with great fury, though he chooses not to run after her. It hurts to realise that those old friends whom Alex used to support and be there for are now turning their backs on him. In that moment – if only for a second – Matt suddenly understands how Alex, his caring and selfless best mate through so many years, could have chosen to leave this treacherous and dishonest place behind.

 

*

 

Just a few days after his disastrous confrontation with Taylor, Matt sees her standing outside the school building, checking her phone, looking like she’s waiting for somebody. He himself is stood smoking with Jamie and Nick, talking sombrely about everything when she catches his attention.

“There she is again,” Matt notifies the others, narrowing his eyes with suspicion, “I’m telling you guys, I can barely stand the sight of her.”

“She was horrible even before Al and Miles went missing, but now…” Nick grunts. “She’s just being ridiculous.” 

“Did she really tell you that she doesn’t care what happens to them?” Jamie questions disbelievingly. “That bitch is in deep denial. Of course she cares. She cares more than anyone. About Alex, at least. Miles – maybe not so much.”

“The question is, though,” Matt adds moodily, “why is she pretending not to care? Is she hoping to persuade us? Or is she hoping to persuade someone else?”

In this very same instance, a car slows down and pulls over just outside the school property. The gang watches closely as Taylor walks over to the vehicle, a big smile spreading across her lips. She bends forward flirtatiously and the car window is rolled down. A freckled and unattractive bloke with a large overbite appears behind the wheel.

“Holy fuck,” Jamie utters, “it’s – it’s Alex’s cousin! What the fuck is he doing talking with Taylor?”

“Which one is he again?” Nick asks, frowning when a chubby hand reaches out through the window to touch Taylor’s shoulder.

“It’s Perry,” Matt breathes with astonishment, “I – I can’t believe it.”

He falls silent when – disturbingly – Taylor leans in and he reaches for her, snaking his hand into her hair rather creepily. The two of them kiss lingeringly, shocking the hell out of their spectators. Matt’s jaw drops, Jamie’s making noises as though he’s about to be sick, and Nick cries:

“What the hell is going on?! Are you guys seeing what I’m seeing? What is she snogging that – that evil monster for?”

Matt’s guts are churning by the time he realises what this means. If Taylor knows something about Alex’s disappearance, they can all damn well be sure that Perry Sharpe and the rest of his family do, too. These are the new friends that Taylor was referring to. Alex’s horrible cousins are her new allies and these were the guys that she was threatening Matt with. 

 

*

 

Miles’s hands were shaking so hard by the time Ruth had told him to stop, he dropped the whip to the floor with great impact, believing it to be heavy as a cannonball. His own hands were stinging, burning, but his stomach dropped when he saw the stains of blood discolour the concrete floor as the whip bounced once before settling down and immobilising. That was when he realised: He had beaten Alex so hard, he had broken through his skin.

“Well done,” Ruth’s voice had sounded, but Miles wasn’t listening. He was suddenly all closed-off; withdrawing back into himself like a snake slithering into a hole, in which he searched for a place to hide away in shame. “You finally did what was necessary. You will receive what I promised you very soon.”

They cut the ropes to untie Alex, but instead of cushioning his fall, they let him drop hard unto the floor, landing flat on his stomach, causing him to bruise several ribs. Semi-unconscious and unable to scream any more, Alex stayed still, letting them walk all over him on their way out.

“See you later, cry-baby,” one of the voices laughed; Miles was barely paying attention. Looking down at his own two hands, he thought he could see Alex’s blood painted all over his skin: An emblematic image of his guilt.

“We’ll leave you to it. Maybe you want to cry for your dead parents some more.”

“That’s right – cry for your stupid Mummy and Daddy all you want!”

“They won’t come to rescue you, though.”

“Nor will anyone else. I mean – who even gives a fuck about you? Your faggot friend here clearly doesn’t.”

“He’s on our side now.”

“You’re all alone, cry-baby.”

“Are you giving us the silence treatment again? Fine. You probably screamed so loud you lost your voice.”

“Suits me.”

“You must feel embarrassed.”

“What are you lying on the floor for? Are you looking for your dignity down there?”

“You lost that a long time ago, remember?”

“You never had any to begin with.”

“So long, sucker.”

“Suck on this.”

Harry spat on the floor right next to Alex’s face and then the brothers left the room, followed by Ruth who smiled superiorly as she locked the door, leaving Miles to clean up his own mess.

“Al – Alex?”

Miles’s voice was nothing but a traumatised murmur. Alex’s body remained a lifeless heap on the floor and for a moment, Miles didn’t even have the courage to touch him. His naked backside was sporting red marks all over, all bleeding furiously through abused, swollen and broken skin. Miles recalled the screams, the cries, the pleas for him to stop as Alex had writhed and sobbed, struggling to even breathe through his torture. The whip had pounded the air out of his lungs every time Miles stroke him, slapping against and beating an already frail and hurting body that was utterly unable to stand against the oncoming force from Miles’s brutality. Alex had slipped and swayed in between each blows, his head sometimes rolling backwards as though he was falling in and out of consciousness. Then finally – after what had felt like a cruel eternity, Alex had stopped howling and begging, silently accepting his fate. Miles had shattered him to pieces so thoroughly, he had lost all will to fight the pain.

“Alex…” Miles begged, eventually kneeling down by his side. “A-are you with me?”

Then he realised that Alex was still heaving with difficulty – the pain was causing him to crumble and succumb to his own distress. He was too worked up to relax and still his breathing. Gasping, panting and shaking all over, Alex cowered at the sound of Miles’s voice. The hard floor wasn’t allowing his lungs to expand properly and so, every panicked breath appeared to be agonising him further.

“Easy,” Miles whispered uncomfortably, sensing Alex’s anxiousness, “Alex, you need to calm down. You’re hyperventilating.” 

Miles bowed down to look the other in the eyes. Alex’s stare was nervous and frightened, like the one of a deer being cornered and aimed at with a loaded rifle. He was clearly still in shock, unable to comprehend that the danger was over. And then Miles realised; Alex couldn’t relax because he still felt cornered. Miles was the one who had done this to him. Miles was the one who had broken his trust and overstepped some invisible boundary and consequently, Alex no longer felt safe. Miles had put him in this state – not Ruth, not his cousins, but Miles. The friend who was never supposed to hurt him. The friend that had been locked in here to look after him when no one else could. 

“Alex – I’m… I’m so sorry,” Miles sighed as he brushed away the hair from the other’s eyes. As soon as he touched him, though, Alex flinched. Miles’s touch was no longer something he welcomed or desired; rather, he shied away as though burnt by Miles’s fingertips. “I’m really sorry I had to do this to you,” Miles said again, feeling stupid and staggered, sounding like a broken record. “You understand that I had no choice, don’t you? I didn’t want to do it, but I – I had to… For your own good.” Then, again: “I’m so sorry.”

 

*

 

Alex was hysterical by the time Miles dragged him off the floor and carried him to the mattress. He had to; Alex was refusing to move his own limbs. He soon developed a fever, which, to Miles, could both be the result of a burning pain after being hit where he was already bruised and vulnerable, or of general exhaustion; starvation, sleep-deprivation, discomfort from being subjected to this cold environment for so long were all considerable factors. Alex shivered and broke one sweat after another, though he was ashen and pallid; too cold and sick to be having hot flashes. Miles began to wonder how severe this fever was, if Alex had grown delirious or not, if he was still going to remember everything tomorrow. Every time Miles draped the duvet around his body, Alex ended up kicking it off, either by accident or in silent protest. He wasn’t even able to do anything about the bleeding. He didn’t have anything to cleanse Alex’s wounds with and if he let Alex wear his t-shirt, he would have bled right through it. 

Alex remained hysterical and inconsolable for the rest of the night. At one point, Miles could have sworn that he had starting to weep into the pillow, but every time Miles tried to near him with comforting words and declarations of regret, Alex hid away from him, refusing to talk. Though this could technically be the fever’s doing, though this could be explained by the pain that Alex was in, Miles knew it in his heart that he had screwed up. Miles had seen him in pain before, but for the first time, Alex didn’t want his help. There was absolutely nothing that Miles could even do to make him feel better. Alex felt humiliated and betrayed and no matter how many times Miles apologised to him, it wasn’t going to do him any good.

To make matters worse, Ruth took her sweet time delivering what Miles had gone behind Alex’s back for. Though she brought them both a couple of bottles of water after only a few hours, she waited until the next day before she had Terry bringing them two bowls of chicken soup and some bread. Miles couldn’t even begin to imagine how long Alex had waited for this moment. And yet, once it had finally been given to them, Alex didn’t want to eat it. Miles had to force the food down his throat, which triggered not only an intense argument, but a small fight, too. Alex whined and squirmed in objection when Miles held him steadied by the shoulder and brought one spoonful after another down to his lips, forcing an entrance. Miles would have offered both bowls to Alex who was in great need of nutrition, but he knew that since Alex had gone all these days without eating, too much of it would have probably made him sick. He let Alex drink as much water as he could, though. Allowing himself to only drink half a bottle, Miles used their final ration to cleanse the dried blood off Alex’s back. When he thought that Alex would have made a scene out of not wanting to be touched by him, Miles was surprised (and truthfully, saddened, too) to see that Alex remained utterly passive this time, his eyes vacant and emotionless, acting like he was already a million miles away from this place.

“You’re doing great,” Miles praised him a couple of times, but Alex wasn’t listening, “your wounds should heal in no time.”

Alex spent the most of that day sleeping, or at least pretending to. Miles understood that he needed space and quiet, and that his fever was still getting in the way of their reconciliation. Miles let him have the mattress all to himself and unsurprisingly, Alex didn’t seem to mind this arrangement. Only when Miles had settled himself up against the wall, resting his head and closing his eyes in the hope that he would be able to get some rest, did he hear Alex moving about. As soon as Alex had thought Miles to be asleep, he sat himself upright with difficulty and searched for the photograph of his parents, hidden away somewhere inside the mattress. Pulling it out and staring at the picture quietly for a very long time, Alex stayed perfectly still, rejoicing at the consolation of a happy memory. He thought Miles didn’t see him, but he did. Miles made certain not to move a muscle, not to disturb Alex in his moment of privacy. Squinting his eyes, pretending to be asleep, he withheld a small sigh and relaxed at the thought that, at the very least, Alex had found something to keep him strong.

 

*

 

It took Alex another twenty-four hours before his fever improved. As suddenly as it had overpowered him, as soon did his attitude change now that it was gone. Terry and his brothers came into the room early in the morning, dragging Alex to his feet and taking him away in order to force another freezing cold bath upon him. Alex complied silently, but Miles could still hear the names that they were calling him, the claims that he was dirty and impure and disgusting beyond repair. He could hear a few slaps being delivered to Alex’s face just as they’d left the room. However, as soon as the door to the bathroom closed, Miles couldn’t hear anything else.

They spent nearly an hour bathing him this time. For this reason, Miles had expected Alex to be anguished and upset by the time they returned to the room. Instead, Alex remained calm and hid his pain. Though he was obviously shivering and desperate for some warmth, he didn’t seem nearly as distressed as he’d been only a few hours ago. When he saw that Ruth had been down to place a tray with two breakfast bowls on it, he even appeared to brighten up at the prospect of receiving regular meals again.

Once again, Terry and his brothers had only given Alex a thin t-shirt and pair of shorts to wear. They were too busy making fun of his skinny legs and arms, they forgot to chain him to the wall before they left. Despite the usual insults and abuses, Alex looked almost peaceful by the time they were alone. Finally able to wrap himself up in the duvet, he took his humble seat on the floor and reached for his cereal, only wishing his meal could have been something more substantial. Beginning to eat eagerly, he barely registered Miles walking towards him, dropping the blanket in his lap.

“Here. You should have this, too.”

Miles turned his back on Alex immediately. Ever since the incident, he had been avoiding the other’s eyes whenever he could, burdened by the guilt that seemed to swallow him up every time Alex watched him, hiding underneath his fringe, the look in his doe eyes all confused and wounded. In fact, every time he looked at Alex now, all he could remember was his screams, his torment, and the way that he had convulsed and collapsed at Miles’s hands, his skin ripping open and gushing with blood for every whip, every blow. The previous assumption that Miles was here to make him feel better, the trust that, in the end, Miles was going to be his rescuer, all of that was gone now. Alex suddenly knew better.

Alex looked up at Miles and he saw his reluctance.

“Here,” Alex whispered, sliding the tray across the floor, in Miles’s direction, “this one is yours.”

Miles shook his head stubbornly, taking no interest in the cheap breakfast that he had bought from them by paying the dearest price of all. 

“I don’t need it. You should have it,” he told Alex truthfully, “I want you to have it.”

“But…” Alex fell silent, watching Miles’s back as the other refused to even meet his gaze. “But you’ve earned it.”

“Don’t.” Miles said suddenly, sounding agonised as he warned Alex not to bring up what he couldn’t forget, anyway. “Just – don’t go there. Please…”

Alex hadn’t meant to make him feel bad. Truthfully, he hadn’t even realised what he had been referring to, though obviously, judging from Miles’s reaction, there was little doubt as to how Miles had earned them these meals. 

“I didn’t mean to… I mean…” Alex swallowed nervously, fearing that perhaps he had sabotaged his bond with Miles through his mood swings and through his sulking. “I’m serious, though. Why don’t you… join me?” He began to make room for Miles on the floor. “Have a seat.”

“Alex,” Miles sighed, shaking his head, “you don’t have to do this.”

“Have your breakfast,” Alex persisted and finally, Miles turned around to face him, “come sit with me.”

Miles looked the other in the eyes, sensing that he was being sincere. Alex’s skin was colourless and ice cold, but the area around his jaw was bright red. His skin always looked sort of inflamed whenever Terry and the others had been hitting him.

“I – I don’t deserve any of this,” Miles then concluded, his guilty conscience once again forcing him to dodge and evade Alex’s attempt to reconcile. Pushing the tray back towards Alex, he walked himself to the opposite corner of the room, just to get as far away from the other as he could. “Have it all. It’s yours.”

“Miles,” Alex pleaded, “stay.”

Miles shook his head again.

“You need your space.”

“No,” Alex told him, “I don’t. Not anymore.”

Miles didn’t reply to this. As he supported himself up against the wall, pretending to be occupied watching a small crack in the floor, he completely ignored Alex’s lingering stare. Though Alex continued to eat quietly, just like his body was urging him to, he somehow didn’t feel right. He had pushed Miles away and now, all he wanted was to have him back.

“I’m sorry, Mi,” Alex muttered insecurely, fearing that the tension between them had spiralled out of control. “I’m really sorry for the way that I reacted. I’m sorry for blaming you for what Auntie Ruth made you do.”

This had Miles raising his head in alarm.

“What are you saying?” He gasped, feeling like he couldn’t believe his own ears.

“I’m saying that you were right all along,” Alex shrugged, dropping his spoon into the bowl, “you made the right call. I didn’t even realise how badly I needed this food, but now that I’m eating again… I understand that you did what you had to do. I’m getting my strength back, I can feel it. Now I know that I was starving before, and if you hadn’t made that deal with Ruth, I would only have grown weaker and weaker.”

Miles’s jaw dropped and he frowned in disbelief.

“Alex, you – you can’t be serious,” he retorted, searching for the right words to describe his outrage, “what I did was wrong! You don’t have to pretend that you’re forgiving me.”

“But there’s nothing to even forgive,” Alex insisted, taken aback by Miles’s tone. “You helped me survive. You looked out for me. I should be thanking you.”

“I tortured you!” Miles exclaimed, making his own skin crawl. “I whipped the shit out of you for forty fucking minutes! Are you really going to thank me for that?”

Alex’s eyes were round with bewilderment.

“Look at me, I’m better now,” he maintained, “I’m eating again, I’m regaining my strength. They’ve even given me painkillers this time, to help me through. For the first time in, like, a week, I feel like I might actually be alright. My pain has been numbed.”

“But you’re not going to stay numb, Alex, can’t you see?” Miles spat, gesturing wildly with his arms. “They’ve tricked you into believing that you must be grateful for simple things such as food, or – or painkillers! After they’ve fucking put you through so much pain, I’ve seen you writing on the floor because you thought you were losing your mind…” Miles paused, raising a hand to his forehead, blinkingly trying to make the inner images go away. He’d seen Alex in so much misery and distress already; the last thing he wanted was to create more incidents like these. Alex was staring at him with eyes full of concern. He had rarely seen or heard Miles this upset. “Look,” Miles sighed, struggling to continue, “you’re only focusing on your pain and hunger going away. And even if you do feel better now, you’re forgetting about the trauma – the mental scars that… that I’ve given you. I betrayed your trust, Alex, and I know it. Are you saying that those scars are healing already? Because I don’t believe you.”

“You went behind my back because I wasn’t in a state to make the right decision myself,” Alex uttered in desperation, “that doesn’t mean that I don’t trust you now. The trust is still there, Miles. I know that you would never hurt me intentionally. I know that – that you’ve only ever done what you thought was best for me.” 

“I was arrogant to make that decision on your behalf!” Miles cried. “I had no right… You were begging me to stop, Alex, and – and I went through with it, anyway. What I did was wrong. Heartless. Unforgivable.” 

“Unforgivable? What Ruth is putting us through is unforgivable. What you had to do, it was just part of a horrible ultimatum. It wasn’t your fault.”

“It was my fault! I whipped you, Alex! You were crying and bl-bleeding, but I didn’t stop. I was hurting you, breaking you… How fucked up is that?”

“It is fucked up,” Alex admitted, offering Miles a sympathetic look, “but that still doesn’t make it your fault.”

“I was never supposed to be the one to hurt you,” Miles bellowed, his voice quivering with agony, “who the fuck even does that to the person they love? Who the fuck chooses to torture them in cold blood? I was supposed to protect you…”

“You did protect me.” Alex argued, despaired to see Miles so devastated. “Can’t you see what’s happening, Miles? She’s trying to turn us against one another. She’s trying to make me hate you. It was her plan all along.”

“But – but you must hate me,” Miles choked, feeling himself welling up, “I hate me…”

“I don’t hate you! I love you.”

“You do hate me,” Miles insisted, “you – you flinched when I touched you. You didn’t want me near you when you were sick…”

“I wasn’t myself,” Alex exhaled uneasily, “I barely knew what was going on. I didn’t understand what had happened. But I do now. I’ve already forgiven you, Miles.”

“You shouldn’t. I’m – I’m not good for you. I’ve ruined everything.” Miles ran a nervous hand through his hair, heaving for air when it felt like his windpipe had clogged. “Every time you get close to me, all you’ll see is the guy who had you tied to the fucking ceiling just so he could wail on you. I’m your tormenter, Alex – not your hero. And when I look you in the eyes… All I see is your tears. All I hear is you begging me to let you go. You were bleeding. You were losing consciousness... I was just letting it happen.”

Miles wiped at his eyes as Alex raised himself from the floor, though with difficulty. He was now approaching Miles carefully, hoping that he wouldn’t turn away from him again.

“That’s not what I see when I look at you, Mi,” he breathed gently, standing confidently before the other. “I see the person who just gave up his own breakfast to make me better. I see the person who’s always been selfless and kind to me, who’s made me smile right from the first day I met him. I see the only person I’ve ever truly been in love with and whose kiss was the best I’ve ever had.”

Alex reached for Miles’s hand, but Miles backed away momentarily. He felt embarrassed for crying, seeing as he hadn’t been the sufferer. He couldn’t believe that – after everything – Alex was the one having to soothe him.

“Alex, you can’t…” Miles swallowed hard. “You can’t just forget what I did to you.”

“Yes I can. Because you’re not that person, Miles. You’ve never been anybody’s tormenter.”

Before Miles could object, Alex had suddenly wrapped his arms around him, holding him close. At first, Miles tensed as he felt Alex’s body pressing up against his own. The touch was genuine, caring and easy, like the one of a lover who wouldn’t let inexperience get in the way. This sort of closeness was something that Miles had spent the past year, and more, fantasising about and longing for, but now – now it felt like he didn’t deserve it. But Alex wasn’t letting him go; moving his arms up to wrap them around Miles’s neck, he brought both their foreheads together, looking into Miles’s eyes earnestly. They were as close together as they had been that day in the school library – before all hell broke loose. Miles could feel Alex’s gentle breath on his lips while Alex revelled at the sensation of Miles’s warmth. They continued to hold each other’s gaze, Alex awaiting Miles’s next move anxiously. However, at the churning of his own guts, Miles felt too disgusted with himself to go through with this gesture. Lowering his head and looking away in shame, or in surrender, he broke apart from Alex with a shake of his head.

“I – I can’t, Alex… No matter how hard I try, I only end up getting you into more trouble.” Miles wrapped his arms around his own body, feeling suddenly useless and incompetent. “You look at me as though I’m some kind of saviour. But all I’ve done since I tracked you down is make things worse.” 

“That’s not true, Miles,” Alex said resolutely, “I never expected you to perform a miracle for me. I never expected you to just be able to break us out of here… But you – you make it all better just by being here. I wouldn’t have been able to keep my hope up if it wasn’t for you.”

“Alex…”

“I just need you to stay with me, Mi. That’s all I ask. Please.” Alex’s eyes were desolate. Pleading. “I don’t want to lose you. You’re all that I have.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Miles then assured him, feeling increasingly guilty, “I’m not leaving you, I wouldn’t. You know that.”

“Then you have to at least be able to look me in the eyes,” Alex panted. “Please? I – I need to be close to you. I need you to… hold me.”

Miles’s heart was pounding in his chest, making him feel dizzy. What was actually getting in the way of his and Alex’s getting together? In this deserted basement, who was to actually keep them apart and prevent them from uniting? Perhaps the obstacles and dangers had all been in his head all along. And Alex was there, right in front of him, alive and radiant, glowing with nothing but adoration and forgiveness, asking Miles to show him that he still felt the same way about him. Alex had been through both horrible exposure and brutal humiliation – it was time for Miles to remind him what he was worth, how wonderful and beautiful he still was, and how none of this had changed Miles’s love for him.

“I can do more than hold you, love,” Miles whispered tenderly as he finally closed the distance between them, grabbing Alex around his middle and leaning in to speak in his ear: “We’re not going to let her win. I’m not going to let her get in the way of my feelings for you.”

Miles grasped a handful of Alex’s hair as he pulled him even closer than before, tilted his head back gingerly and bent forward to press an eager, heartfelt and frankly, overdue, kiss to his lips.

 

*

 

Alex’s back slapped against the wall as Miles was all over him, ravishing him, feeling him, pleasuring him. He released a prolonged sigh as his eyes closed and his head rolled back. Miles’s mouth was everywhere and the warm, tickling sensation was causing him to shudder and fall slack against the other’s chest.

“Am I hurting you, love?” Miles uttered suddenly, only then realising that Alex’s backside was still bruised all over. He cradled Alex protectively, wrapping his arms tightly around him, pausing his kisses to ensure that he wasn’t being careless.

“No,” Alex whined, bringing Miles’s lips back down to his own with great impatience, “don’t stop, keep going.”

Feeling Miles’s body pressing against his, Alex squirmed excitedly as he allowed himself to get trapped against the wall. Miles was gasping into his open mouth, finding Alex’s tongue with his own, snogging him hard and deliberately. Alex’s hands were palming Miles’s cheeks before they travelled down to feel his taut torso, soon scratching his fingertips against the material of Miles’s shirt as though he wanted to rip it off him.

“Are you trying to tell me something?” Miles grinned smugly, flattered by the other’s urgency. “You know you only have to ask.”

“Shut up,” Alex laughed, showing his pearly white teeth as he broke into an endearing smile, “I should like to think that I’m smoother than that.”

“Yeah, right,” Miles taunted, rolling his eyes, “you’re not smooth – you’re practically gagging for it!”

“Why did you have to be so god damn irresistible?” Alex groaned, pulling at the hem of Miles’s shirt, eager for him to take it off. “I’ve waited so long already…”

“Yeah – you have,” Miles smirked, omitting the truth that he himself was bursting with want, “I shouldn’t tease you like this. It’s not fair.”

He released Alex, taking a step back to remove his own shirt obediently. Taking the shirt off slowly and slightly timidly, Miles tried his hardest not to appear nervous, not to blush when he caught Alex staring. Christ, he was being such a virgin about this, it was embarrassing. But he had never before had to undress himself in front of anyone; though this was something that he wanted dearly, it took some getting used to. Miles had always been teased about his humble and unmuscular built and now he was worried that, in reality, Alex would have preferred someone more masculine than him.

But Alex loved what he was seeing.

“Miles,” he exhaled almost dreamily, “you’re so gorgeous!” Without hesitation, Alex placed a hand against Miles’s chest, admiring his smooth, hot skin. “Is this okay? Are we moving too fast?”

“We’re not,” Miles reassured him with a calm smile, feeling instantly at ease, “you don’t have to worry about me, Al. I know this is my first time, but… I’m not scared. This feels right.”

Alex took his hand, pressing a light kiss to Miles’s palm.

“I’m so glad to hear you say that,” he beamed, “and don’t worry, I would never rush you if you didn’t feel ready. It’s my first time, too, you know. So I get it.”

“It is?” Miles failed to mask his surprise. For some reason, though he had never had the courage to ask, he had always imagined Alex to be the more experienced of the two. “I mean… I just assumed…”

“I’ve gone to second base before,” Alex confessed with a shrug, “but never the full way. I don’t think I’ve ever felt comfortable enough with anyone – until you came along.” 

“Damn,” Miles joked, “I was hoping that you’d guide me through this and be able to tell me what to do.”

Possibly, Miles was only joking because, truth be told, he had no idea how to tell Alex that he was not only honoured to be his first, but touched, too. He knew that Alex had had admirers and offers in the past, (Taylor was, if anyone, evidence of this) but it had never occurred to him that Alex had been saving himself. He then began to wonder what made him so special, why Alex had chosen to be with him when he had had such a great selection.

“I think you already know what you would like to do,” Alex laughed, his eyes lingering down Miles’s lower body, where Miles could feel the trousers tightening around his groin. 

“Come here,” Miles mouthed as he pulled Alex close and wrapped his arms around him once again, embracing him affectionately, warming up the other’s body, breathing in his scent and smelling his hair. Holding Alex in his arms was a sensation so wonderful, so thrilling, Miles didn’t think he could ever bring himself to let go. Alex’s fingers stayed at Miles’s chest, playing with his short hairs fervently. Miles’s hands were now moving down Alex’s body, feeling the shape of his hips before daring to palm his arse. Alex’s smile broadened sweetly, so Miles leant in to catch those beautiful, soft lips with his own. Kissing each other noisily, the two were so blessed to be able to forget about time and space for just one moment. For the first time since seeing the inside of this basement, Miles forgot about being afraid, and about watching over his shoulder. In his arms, Alex was safe, Alex was happy, and Alex was his; the world, after all, had the potential to be a magnificent and perfect place. “I used to dream about us taking things further,” Miles chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief, “it seems like a lifetime ago now.”

“Do you remember when we met each other in the school hallway, and you were having an argument with Matthew because you spilt you drink all over his shirt?” Alex giggled. 

“An argument?” Miles repeated. “Yeah right, I thought he was going to kill me on my very first day of school!”

“Yeah, but my point is,” Alex grinned, “I thought you were the kindest and most charming person I’d ever met. Not to mention good-looking.”

“Speaking of good-looking,” Miles winked, “perhaps I should help you out of your clothes?” He kissed Alex’s forehead. “I’m desperate to see you, love.”

Alex had barely ridded himself of his shirt before Miles’s hands had found his naked waist. 

“You’re tickling me,” Alex complained, but Miles couldn’t help himself.

“You’re so beautiful,” he sighed, kissing Alex’s jawline and neck passionately, “I can’t get enough…”

“I’m in poor shape,” Alex responded, though Miles’s compliment didn’t bother him, “my body’s seen better days.”

“You’re body’s perfect,” Miles assured him, making sure that Alex knew he meant it, “besides, these will heal.” Miles’s let his fingertip ghost across Alex’s wounds, without pressing against his skin. “This looks painful, though,” he paused, taking in the bruises covering Alex’s ribs after his fall to the floor, “are you sure you’re going to be okay? I – I don’t want to make it hurt.”

“I’ll be fine,” Alex told him with a small smile. “I’m serious, Mi. I want your hands on me.”

Alex kissed him briefly before pulling down his own shorts, determined to prove to the other that he wasn’t bothered about his discoloured and broken appearance. Standing completely naked before Miles, he smiled as the other stilled for a moment, taking his time to admire what he had only seen once before, under much different and less voluntary circumstances. It was no secret that, to Miles, Alex was the most stunning, the most beautiful person he’d ever beheld and of that fact, he was now reaffirmed. He adored him in every sense and in every aspect; Alex was the only true friend he’d ever had and certainly, he was the person who had treated him the best, even in the short span of their friendship, and had had the most faith in him, right from the beginning. Before Alex, the real Miles had been dead; unknown and invisible to other people who took absolutely no interest in him. Now, there was absolutely nothing that Miles wouldn’t do to make Alex as happy as he had made him.

“You’re so beautiful,” Miles whispered as he walked up to him and began to touch him, just like Alex had wanted him to, “you’re so beautiful, I can’t believe you’re real.”

 

*

 

They settled down on the mattress slowly, both feeling problematically ready yet nervous to make the first move. It started with them kneeling down in front of each other, kissing sloppily in order to win some time until one of them grew the courage to take charge. However, after a short while, Miles could no longer restrain himself; edging forward almost unintentionally, without being aware of himself, he was practically pushing against Alex, rubbing himself against him like the horny teenager that he was, feeling like he was about to burst as his erection dug into Alex’s hip. Taking his cue from Miles’s eagerness, Alex allowed himself to be pushed backwards until his back was resting against the mattress and Miles was able to move on top of him. Smiling up at the other, Alex wrapped his arms around Miles’s neck and brought him down for another kiss. Feeling Miles’s full weight pressing down on him, Alex grimaced briefly before masking his expression. But Miles saw.

“Are you sure this is okay?” Miles asked as he withdrew from the kiss, sensing Alex’s discomfort. “Is it your ribs?”

“It’s just a small sting,” Alex told him as he didn’t want Miles to stop, “it’s not that bad. Besides, I’m on painkillers, right?”

“Here. Allow me…”

Miles removed himself from Alex, rolling off him gently in order to swap places with him. Alex grinned smugly as he hovered above Miles and brought down his head to trail a series of kisses down Miles’s chest and torso, tickling him with his lips and tongue. Miles shuddered with pleasure, grasping at Alex’s hair, torn between pushing his head further down or yanking him closer for a proper snog, mouth to mouth. 

“You don’t know what you’re doing to me,” Miles gasped, holding Alex steadied by the hair, though Alex managed to lick at his nipple playfully, “you shouldn’t test me… I – I haven’t been – you know what – in a while. I won’t last long…”

“Are you saying that you’re ready?” Alex checked with him, biting his lip friskily, looking absolutely gorgeous. 

“Well…” Miles inhaled loudly, feeling the blood rushing through his body along with all kinds of emotions. “Are you?”

Alex looked down at him, letting the tip of his finger brush against Miles’s bottom lip fondly, toying with him. 

“Yeah – I think I am,” he said, smiling with genuine rapture. “H-how do you want me?”

Miles fell silent for a moment, running through images of options inside his head, ideas that he wouldn’t speak out loud. It occurred to him that he hadn’t expected Alex to leave the decision up to him. Alex was clearly conscious of making this experience as pleasant for Miles as he could so in return, Miles now had the responsibility to be as gentle with him as possible. 

Miles swallowed hard. “Do you want to be on your front or your back?” He asked lamely, already trying to rearrange himself.

“I’ll – I’ll be on my back,” Alex decided slightly timidly. Miles got the feeling that Alex was trying to avoid any situation in which Miles had to stare down at his wounded backside and be reminded of what he had gone through and in secret, Miles was grateful for his consideration. Though this shouldn’t be on his mind right now, he suddenly had no problem with Alex hiding away his injuries.

It took them a while to take position and for Miles to figure out how to top Alex without pressing down against his ribs and hurting him. To begin with, Miles felt like he had to remind himself that Alex was fragile, that he had been through a lot and that he needed Miles to be careful with him. However, every time Miles tried to be slow and gentle, giving Alex time to adapt, Alex seemed to be dropping subtle hints to let Miles know that he wasn’t made of glass and that he wasn’t going to break. When Miles refused to rest his full weight against him, Alex pressed his own body upwards, desperate for friction and for Miles’s touch. Letting their bodies align and their limbs mingle, Alex held onto Miles reassuringly, ready to go all the way with him. 

“It’s okay, Mi,” he told him when Miles appeared to stall, moving in between Alex’s legs, spreading them nervously, “I trust you. I want to… feel you.”

“But…” Miles took a deep breath. “Aren’t we supposed to use a lubricant? We don’t have anything and – I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t hurt me,” Alex smirked, having thought about this already, “I have an idea.”

Gesturing for Miles to raise himself to his knees, Alex pushed him back as he sat upright, staring down at Miles’s lap. Miles trailed Alex’s eyes, realising what his intension was.

“You – you want to…?”

“Is that okay?” Alex asked, licking his lips suggestively, nearly driving Miles over the edge as he practically felt himself grow harder.

“Yeah,” Miles chuckled with excitement, feeling a warm sensation of bliss tickle the pit of his belly, “I mean, go for it, love.”

Alex grinned at the other’s sudden stimulation. Supporting himself on his hands, Alex moved his head down while Miles parted his knees keenly. Though he took a moment to admire Miles’s length, Alex showed no reluctance before taking him in his mouth and closing his lips gently around the tip so skilfully, it was hard to believe that he’d never done this before. Miles gasped at the sensation, arching his back and clenching all his fingers and toes. It took him all his strength not to moan out loud and give in to his delight. Alex was now pleasuring him in the most heavenly way and it was enough to exceed even Miles’s wildest fantasy. Just when he thought that Alex couldn’t have made him feel any luckier, he began to use his tongue as he took him further in. Miles’s eyes closed shut as he finally released a content groan, tensing and relaxing repeatedly every time he thought that he was about to lose control and let go of himself. But he was determined not to let Alex down; holding himself back with all his might, making sure to release his pre-cum only, he began to roll his hips forward, entering the back of Alex’s mouth a couple of times because he simply couldn’t resist. The urge to thrust back and forth was too strong, he suddenly couldn’t get enough of the wet warmth of Alex’s mouth. It was the sweetest bliss, the most selfless gesture Miles could have imagined. Watching Miles’s joy silently, Alex was happy to prolong the moment. Only when Miles’s thrusts intensified and Miles’s tip entered his throat, causing Alex’s to cough with surprise, did he begin to pull himself back.

“Oh my God,” Miles heaved breathlessly, “that was… that was…”

“That was only our warm-up, love,” Alex laughed, wiping his mouth mischievously, admiring the way that Miles’s mouth had fallen open in astonishment, “it’s only going to get better from here.”

“Let’s focus on you now, baby,” Miles whispered, his cheeks all hot and his palms slightly sweaty, “I owe you after that… I should be wet enough now, don’t you think?”

It seemed crazy that this basement was going to become the scene of Miles and Alex’s first time with each other; with a lack of romance that was horrifically striking in the display of chains and tethers, hooks and ropes attached to cold walls and splattered blood staining the concrete floor, this room was impossibly unable to match Miles’s feelings of eroticism and passion. Though surrounded by gruesomeness and cruelty, Miles knew that he was holding something rare, something entirely good and precious in his arms. Alex was smiling angelically up at him, kissing Miles’s nose, Miles’s chin as he giggled endearingly, causing Miles’s heart to skip a beat in pure adoration. Miles had never before seen Alex so happy, playful and animated; a light was dancing in his eyes that Miles had never seen or known previously. Perhaps it had never in fact existed, not until Alex had decided to annihilate and destroy the evil that had, briefly, surfaced in Miles, put there so cruelly by Ruth in order to bring Alex to his knees. Alex, however, had conquered his ordeal and now, he was ready to ensure that his ties with Miles would forever remain indestructible. Ruth had lost and they had won; she would never, ever succeed in breaking them apart.

Alex’s smile faltered only when Miles pushed inside him. He felt impossibly tight and despite how careful Miles was, he eventually had to force an entrance that wasn’t entirely pain-free. Alex clenched and tensed for a moment, though he didn’t say anything. With his fingernails digging into Miles’s back, he took in a deep breath, trying hard to adapt. There was no way to describe what it felt like to have Miles moving inside him. Though it meant tearing down walls that he didn’t even realise he had, every shift, every shove, every pull from Miles was sending vibrations through Alex’s body, awakening him brilliantly as Miles explored every surface of him. Miles’s warmth was washing over him, showering him and sheltering him all at once. Alex had never felt safer. Miles was observant and caring, looking out for him, detecting Alex’s struggle. Wanting to make him feel at ease, Miles held onto Alex’s wrists gently, pinning them down as he returned to nibbling at his neck and throat, planting his kisses everywhere ever so affectionately until he heard Alex gasp with desire. When, eventually, he was ready for Miles to begin moving again, Miles drove himself further inside, stretching Alex out as gradually and mercifully as he could. Alex learned to relax and not to resist. His yearning for Miles had replaced his initial discomfort. Once he’d felt what Miles was capable of doing to him, Alex grew increasingly brave and hungry for more and he started to buck his hips as Miles slapped against him. Taking Miles in and angling his pelvis to meet his every thrust, Alex cried at each penetration, suddenly loving the sting, the burn. Miles was already damp with sweat. His arms were trembling as he carried the weight of his own body, using all his strength to enter Alex hard and fast. He was beginning to register muscles in his body that he’d hardly ever taken notice of before. There was something about this position, this dominant part of the act, which made him feel strong and potent. Like he was no longer a boy, or even a lad, but a man. Miles felt manly. He felt virile, powerful – attractive, even. Something about the way that Alex had arched his back as he moaned devotedly and exposed his throat to Miles was boosting his ego. If he was able to truly pleasure the person in his life, there was nothing else he couldn’t do, or wouldn’t succeed at in this world. If this was Miles’s rite of passage, he was passing the test with flying colours – at least, Alex seemed to suggest so as he bit his lip and scratched at Miles’s backside keenly.

Eventually, Miles steadied his pace as he feared he wouldn’t last long. Slowing things down, he wanted to take his time – he wanted to be in this very moment for the rest of his life if possible because truth be told, this was the least scared, the least worried he’d ever been. Alex hugged him against his chest and everything felt purely wonderful. Miles palmed Alex’s jawline gently as he bowed down to kiss him, letting their teeth collide, letting his thrusts become an unhurried rhythm. Inhaling through his nose, Miles deepened the kiss tenderly and when he caught Alex smirking up at him as he sniggered and caught Miles’s bottom lip with his front teeth, teasing him, he felt so aroused, he swore he was going to fuck Alex through the tiny mattress. 

 

*

 

They had fallen asleep under the covers together, naked and warm, Miles spooning Alex peacefully from behind. When they woke up, perhaps a few hours later, Miles stirred Alex to life by kissing his shoulder after which Alex spun around and smiled at him. His smile had changed, though. It was no longer fearless and desperate with want; rather, it was marked by the sad reality that now, they had both come down from their high, only to be reminded that, despite everything, they were still here as prisoners instead of lovers.

“Are you okay?” Miles asked him, reaching for his hand. Alex intertwined their fingers, nodding quietly. 

“I just wish we could have woken up somewhere else than… here.” Alex’s smile tightened with effort. “I wish I could just keep you all to myself and that I’d never have to see another person again.”

“Hey,” Miles whispered, “it’ll be alright. We have each other and that’s the important thing. Come here, you – let me thank you for earlier. You were really great.”

“I was great?” Alex chuckled as Miles pressed a kiss to his hair. “Miles, what you did was amazing. I – I can still feel you inside of me. I still feel like my whole body is… pulsating.”

“If it were up to me, I’d still be inside you and never come out,” Miles joked and Alex slapped his arm, “are you feeling sore?”

“What do you think?” Alex grinned. “Of course I’m sore.” Then he added: “But it’s worth it.”

“We could catch some more rest if you want,” Miles suggested, yawning, wrapping the duvet tightly around them, “let’s not return to reality just yet, eh?”

“Yeah,” Alex agreed, using Miles’s chest as a pillow this time, “not yet.”

“Love you, Al.”

“Love you, too, Mi.”

Falling back asleep, Miles thought he was searching for a profound and warm place deep within himself – a place he’d sought before in need of courage, or faith. However, on his way there, he seemed to relapse and re-encounter one of his demons instead. His nightmare turned everything into a painful reliving of his crime. He felt the swing of his own hand in which he held the whip firmly. He felt the vibration in his fingers, travelling all the way up his arm as he hit his target forcefully, a mighty whack stealing Miles’s own breath away. Alex’s blood spilled, but this time, Miles was the one screaming. Watching Alex’s motionless body before him, Miles panicked and decided to flee. He wanted out of this excruciating memory, he wanted to burn it, erase it so that he never had to be reminded of his actions again. Washing the blood off his hands, Miles silenced his own screams as he plunged into a very different dream concerning a very different memory. This time, he was making love to Alex, healing his wounds, making everything better. The two of them were finally free of their burdens and of their past. Miles’s arms wrapped around Alex’s frame as he held him tight and came inside him. Alex moaned delightfully, reaching a hand into Miles’s hair as he stilled him and kissed him, asking him not to pull out just yet. Miles hadn’t been lying when he wished that he could have stayed inside Alex for the rest of his life.

 

*

 

The next time Miles woke up, Alex was shaking him frantically by the shoulder and shouting his name. 

“Miles! Miles, wake up! They’re coming!” He cried, slipping into his underwear anxiously and searching for the rest of his clothes. “You’ve got to get dressed! Miles!”

Miles blinked and sat himself upright with a gasp. 

“Alex, what’s going-“

Alex tossed a shirt in Miles’s face, cutting him off.

“They can’t find us like this,” Alex freaked, putting on his shorts urgently, “they will kill us!”

It was too late. Miles heard keys rattling from the other side of the door. Springing back to life, Miles jumped when he spotted his underwear by the opposite wall. Retrieving them in the nick of time, Miles’s nudity was still showing when the door was kicked in and Ruth, Terry and Harry showed their faces. Miles dressed himself in a frenzy, his heart hammering away worriedly. Having no time to find his trousers, he halted in aguish, blushing furiously. They were all staring. They knew they had literally caught them with their pants down. For the first time in a while, Alex and Miles had rendered Ruth speechless and shocked. 

“What’s going on in here?” She demanded in immediate outrage, but it was already plain for everyone to see. Then Terry walked up to shove Alex against the nearest wall violently. Punching him straight in the face, he let Alex fall to the floor with a whimper, clutching his cheek.

“You disgusting whore!” He bellowed, kicking him in the stomach so that Alex doubled over. “You nasty little slut… You will sleep with anybody, won’t you? Even the ones who’ve just tortured you!”

Harry joined his brother, pulling Alex back to his feet by yanking at his hair. Alex objected, but to no avail. He was pushed back up against the wall, forced to stand.

“He fucked you up the arse, didn’t he?” Harry thundered, seizing Alex’s throat. “Did you like it? Did you suck his cock? Are you a little cock-sucker, huh? Is that what you are? You make me sick…”

Tightening his grip, Harry let Alex choke and writhe pitifully. 

“There are too many god damn faggots in this world,” Terry barked, punching Alex’s stomach again even though he was defenceless, “but you’re the worst one of them, you piece of scum! You probably liked it when he whipped you. It probably reminded you of those sick fetishes you have!”

Harry released Alex’s throat and as he gasped and coughed, Harry pulled him closer by the hair, restraining him. “Mum, what do you want us to do with him?” He asked, revealing his hideous taste for blood as he prodded the burn wound on Alex’s chest with his finger. “We can’t let him get away with committing such a nauseating sin under our roof, can we?”

“No,” Ruth spoke grimly, still shaken by what she was seeing, “we cannot.”

She wasn’t her usual, cocky self, Miles noticed. She didn’t smile once when her sons attacked her nephew, like she had done so many times before. Her sudden sternness made him realise that they were in deeper shit than he could possibly fathom. Ruth was now too upset, too repulsed and angry to take joy in Alex’s beatings and for that reason, Miles was truly terrified.

“What do you want us to do, Mum?” Terry repeated his brother’s question, slapping Alex across the face. “Should we bring back the whip?”

“No,” Ruth retorted coldly, walking towards them, “no, dear, that won’t suffice. They’ve crossed the line this time, so we have to think of a punishment that will penalise them both.”

“What are you thinking?” Harry quizzed her, grasping Alex’s thin arm, digging his dirty fingernails into his skin.

“I’m thinking that’s it’s time to put them into separate rooms,” Ruth threatened, looking over at Miles bitterly as she continued: “If torture and betrayal won’t come between these two, I guess separation will have to do the trick.”

“What?” Miles exclaimed, feeling the hope that Alex had helped him to revive shatter and dissolve until he simply felt hollow inside. “No, you – you can’t do that! Please!” He hadn’t made a sound when the brothers had seized Alex because he had learned from the past mistakes of his intervention, but now he couldn’t stand idly by any longer. “You don’t have to do this. It’s – it’s not what it looks like!”

“Don’t talk to me like I’m stupid,” Ruth snapped, furious with Miles’s insolence, “I didn’t let you down here so that you could let my bastard of a nephew seduce you. I’ve kept you here because I needed you to make yourself useful, so mark my words. The moment I decide that you are no longer worth the trouble, you are going to have a very hard time in this place.”

They took Alex away and shoved him into a different room, which Miles had only seen the outside of. Realising that there was nothing for him to do to change Ruth’s mind, Miles had to watch in defeat when the two brothers locked themselves in the room with him. It wasn’t hard to guess what their intention was; their clenched fists were the ugly promise of more violence and of more punishment for breaking their rule number one: Don’t be a fucking faggot. Just when Miles thought he was condemned to stay in the basement and listen to Alex’s cries for help from the other side of the wall, Ruth revealed that she had other plans for him.

“Get dressed, you little traitor. I want you to follow me upstairs,” she grunted glumly, taking out a set of handcuffs to make sure that Miles wasn’t able to create any trouble, “there’s someone I want you to meet.”

 

*

 

With his wrists handcuffed behind his back, Miles walked up the stairs uncertainly, following Ruth who hadn’t bothered to prepare him for what was to come. In that moment of time, Miles didn’t even care. He was so sick of having to swallow his anger and upset – he was sick of letting Alex down, of not being able to come to his rescue. It killed him that they were alone with him now. It killed him that they were able to do whatever they wanted to him, that Alex was the only one being punished even though it had taken two to commit their offense, which was to express their love for one another. Terry and his brothers seemed to have a thing for targeting the weakest, the most defenceless and vulnerable and indeed, Alex was all of that. He was already battered and enfeebled. It would have been fairer of them to pick on Miles for a change because, at the very least, Miles had remained in good health.

“Cut the sulking,” Ruth told him irritably as they reached the upstairs hall, “you’re acting like I’ve treated you unjustly. You should have known better than to be so stupid. You’re lucky my boys haven’t neutered you yet, seeing as you can’t keep your genitals to yourself, but there is still time for that if you provoke them. Now, before I introduce you to our guest, would you like a drink from the kitchen?”

She was sounding all casual, pretending not to have a care in the world even when Miles knew that – at this very minute – her sons were probably breaking every bone in Alex’s body. 

“Go fuck yourself,” Miles snapped, though he knew he wasn’t making things better for any of them. “I hope you choke to death on one of your cigarettes.”

Ruth turned around to face Miles. She was calm and indifferent because where her heart should have been, there was only a lump of ice. Nothing that Miles had to say could truly affect her feelings. 

“For your own good, I hope you’re not really in love with Alexander,” she spoke unexpectedly, looking Miles in the eyes with a dull, yet piercing glare, “it won’t end well for you. He’s going to poison you. He’s going to ruin your life.”

“You’re ruining my life,” Miles barked, leaning in to hover above the short woman in front of him, but she wasn’t backing down, “what do you even know about love? Who are you to decide that any love can be sinful?”

Ruth’s lips tightened into an incensed frown.

“Go to the living room,” she ordered him spitefully, deciding that Miles wasn’t worth advising, “it’s time.”

“Fuck you,” Miles grunted, remaining stubbornly disobedient, “I’m sick of you telling me what to do.”

Ruth reached into her pocket and pulled out a small jack-knife, holding it up before his face to let him know that she was serious. 

“Go to the living room,” she told him again, “or I’ll stab you in the eye, you little prick.”

Miles felt the tip of the blade pressing against his back as he started to walk. Ruth was making certain that he was unable to turn around, though Miles had absolutely no idea who she was forcing him to see. Having given Ruth’s mystery guest next to no thought at all, it was only when Miles opened the door to the living room and popped inside that he stopped dead, mortified by the extent of his surprise. Forgetting to move, Miles gasped when he felt a small stab from the knife in his back, reminding him to inch closer until Ruth had decided that it was good enough. 

“Oh my God!” The words had left his mouth before he could even stop himself. “What are you doing here?!”

Initially, the shock had overshadowed everything else. However, now that Miles was given a moment to collect himself, the shock was replaced by confusion, then by fury. There, in David and Penny’s emerald green sofa, Perry had been joined by a tall, blonde and blue-eyed girl who was looking over at Miles in triumph. Amused by his astonishment, she grinned smugly and crossed one leg over the other, looking like she had truly made herself at home. It was Taylor. Miles thought he had been hallucinating at first, but it was definitely her with her long legs, her stinking, sweet perfume and her septum piercing. But why? Did she have any idea what was going on, and if not, why had Ruth even invited her inside the house?

Then, when Miles failed to join the dots, Perry huffed at him, reminding him that he was an idiot, after which he clarified the situation:

“Quit staring, turd-face. She’s so far out of your league, you can’t even see that far.” Perry smirked meanly as he moved his meaty hand and placed it on Taylor’s knee. Taylor rested her hand on top of his, acting like his most perfect bitch. “She’s with me, you pillock,” Perry laughed, loving Miles’s bewilderment, “don’t you get it? She’s with me now and she’s here to take part in all the fun.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As if Miles isn't already worried about getting separated from Alex, he now has to worry about Taylor and the role that she's been playing behind his back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies everyone, it's been a long wait since my last chapter! There is lots of drama (and swearing) happening in this one, so I've really taken my time with it. Once again, these chapters are getting longer and more challenging to write - I do hope you like it!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading xx

The words are ringing, raging and repeating themselves in Miles’s ears as Perry is staring him down mockingly as ever. ‘She’s with me now and she’s here to take part in all the fun.’ The fun? What fun? The gruelling, nightmarish horrors that they’ve been putting Alex through inside their private, under-ground torture chambers? Is that was he refers to as fun? Is that what Taylor has come here to witness, acting as though she’s merely bought herself a ticket to the circus? However, the message only truly sinks in when Miles looks over at Taylor in despair, horrified to find that she’s smiling back at him haughtily, confirming Perry’s every word. Taylor – the girl who used to declare her love for Alex on a daily basis – is now wrapping her arm around Ruth Sharpe’s hideous son, allowing herself to be touched by his fat and abusive fingers whilst she smirks and grins at Miles’s look of defeat. 

“What’s the matter, Kane?” She gloats proudly, as though aligning herself with the Sharpes is going to bring her any victory. “Did you never think you would see me again?” 

Then the walls come tumbling down on Miles’s sanity. The extent of Taylor’s betrayal is driving him over the edge and he can longer contain himself.

“You back-stabbing bitch!”

Taylor and Perry are both too entwined with one another, there is little time for them to react as Miles launches. And as he throws himself at them, he manages to grab a handful of Taylor’s blonde hair, causing her to squeal like a pig, before inevitably, Perry rises himself like a mountain before Miles and tackles him to the floor. 

“Let go of her right now, you son of a bitch!” Perry bellows into Miles’s ear as he’s suddenly all over him, pinning him down on his back. “I swear to God I’ll chop your hands off for touching her! She’s mine, do you hear me? Mine!”

Miles gasps as he lands on the floorboards, hard, too winded to laugh out loud at the idea that anyone would fight him for a disloyal, two-faced girl like Taylor. Before he is able to tell Perry that he can keep her all to himself, he is silenced by a mighty fist whacking him across the nose, forcing his head to slam against the floor. Groaning with impact, Miles tenses as he readies himself for combat. But it isn’t Perry he’s bothered to fight.

“You knew!” He cries with anger, exposing his teeth as he glares up at Taylor like a wild animal ready to hunt her down. “You knew what they were going to do to him! You knew!”

Taylor gets up from the sofa, her face vacant with alarm. But then she is reminded of Perry’s protection and she relaxes evidently.

“Stop looking at her!” The youngest Sharpe brother howls with fury, seizing Miles’s collar and pulling him half-way off the floor before giving him a violent shake. “She wants nothing to do with you freaks, do you hear me? She’s with us now!”

Perry lets go and Miles drops down, unable to break his fall.

“You imposter!” Miles spits as he falls back down on his back, looking up into Taylor’s face with all the vehemence he can muster. “You were supposed to be his friend! He trusted you! He trusted you, Taylor! How could you do this to him?” Miles gasps when Perry hits him again, but he doesn’t even care. “You are the reason he’s here!” This time, Miles spits blood. “You betrayed him! You had them lock him up and for what? Because you were jealous? Because you were feeling sorry for yourself?”

Taylor’s confidence is once again shaken by Miles’s outbursts and she wraps her arms around her own body as though she’s shielding herself. Backing away from the scene slightly, she makes her way to the corner of the room, looking away from Miles as though his words can’t reach her if she pretends he’s not there.

“Enough!” Perry shouts, jumping back to his feet, leaving Miles sprawled on the floor. “How dare you talk to her like that?” Perry then lifts his foot only to press it down against Miles’s throat, just hard enough for the younger boy to wheeze and writhe in protest. “Now you best stop talking or I’m going to rip the tongue out of your mouth, you little wanker!” 

Ignoring Perry’s threats, Miles chokes and coughs until he manages to draw in a breath of air.

“Do you even know what they’re doing to him?” He croaks, this time pleading for Taylor to listen because it won’t be long before he loses his speech. Perry’s forcing his head back and he can no longer see her. “Do you know how badly they hurt him?” Miles rasps, feeling his windpipe closing in. “They’re… they’re killing him, Taylor! They’re k-killing Alex b-because of you…” 

Perry presses his foot down against his throat, harder, silencing Miles completely and leaving him to claw at his chunky leg when his vision blurs and darkens dangerously. Then, finally, Taylor seems to respond to his accusations.

“From what I heard, Kane,” she utters with newly-found or perhaps feigned confidence, seeing as her boyfriend has got Miles disarmed and pinned down to the ground, “you’ve taken part, too. You’ve hurt him, too, haven’t you?” Taylor inches closer and as she appears behind Perry’s broad shoulders, Miles detects a smirk – an insult on her lips. Like it’s all just a joke to her. “Don’t pretend you don’t know. Per and his brothers told me all about it.” Her pink lips separate and she laughs nastily. “You whipped him. You whipped him good, I heard that he was all bloody after you let him off. You were a right devil, weren’t you? You were absolutely brutal with him. Are you sure you don’t share our resentment for him?”

Miles growls and snarls, thrashing aggressively underneath Perry’s foot.

“That’s right, babe, you tell him,” Perry scoffs, wrapping his arm around Taylor’s shoulders, “look at that little piece of shit, his face is turning all red…”

“Why so angry, Kane?” Taylor mocks him again, her laugh increasingly insufferable this time. “Don’t act like you’re not involved in this, like it’s all on us. Don’t act like Alex doesn’t deserve what’s coming to him. He’s a fucking slut, can’t you tell? I don’t know what he’s told you in order to seduce you, but he’s only bloody playing you. When he decides that you are no longer useful to him, he’ll dump you for someone else, wait and see.”

“If we let him live long enough,” Perry adds and only then does Taylor’s smile falter slightly. 

Miles manages to get a hand underneath Perry’s shoe and he pushes against it, using all his strength. Whether his desperation has provided him with some sort of unfamiliar force, or Perry’s simply humouring him, it appears to be working. Perry’s foot retreats gradually, removing some of the pressure from Miles’s windpipe.

“It’s not a joke!” Miles cries, his voice rough and abused as he continues his battle against the Sharpe brother’s massive weight. He feels like a sorry ant under the motherfucker’s shoe. “Taylor, please – it’s not a joke! They are actually killing him…” He coughs miserably, feeling the tears of his helplessness prick in his eyes. “You h-have to help him… He could d-die… I know you d-don’t want him to d-die…” 

Miles is cut off when Perry delivers a brutal kick to his shoulder.

“Why the fuck would she help him, you twat?” He shouts wrathfully as though triggered by the thought that Taylor might show his younger cousin mercy. “She hates him just as much as we do. Wake the fuck up, you little prick – what the fuck do you think this is? A fucking day care centre? Welcome to the real world, you fool!” 

Perry kicks him again, though much harder, aiming for the ribs. Miles cowers and curls himself up in pain when he feels the blow assaulting his defenceless body. All he wants to do is crumble and beg for both his and Alex’s lives and yet, at the same time, his desire for vengeance, for blood, even, is keeping him from stooping that low. He can’t let them defeat him. Never. 

“Alright, darling, you’ve made your point now.” Ruth’s voice interferes so suddenly, both Perry and Taylor seem to freeze on the spot. It appears that they all forgot about Ruth’s presence for a moment and now, Miles is left to wonder whether or not the old hag is still carrying the knife in her hand. “Step away from him, Percival.”

Miles is still panting and curled up in a poor attempt to shield himself, in case Ruth’s youngest son is to disobey her. 

“But, Mum…” Perry objects cautiously, clearly unhappy with Ruth’s order. Miles is able to detect the disappointment in his voice.

“But nothing,” Ruth speaks calmly and yet, somehow, the entire room is tensing at the sheer sound of her cold, unemotional voice. “I let you take a swing or two at him because he attacked the girl. But now I must remind you that we swore to protect our guest.”

“You saw what he was going to do to her!” Perry exclaims, clearly upset. “That son of a bitch pulled her fucking hair! He touched her – MY girlfriend! He touched MY girlfriend!” 

Perry’s anger is causing him to expose his every sense of ownership, of entitlement and if it wasn’t for the fact that Taylor had put him and Alex here, Miles would have actually feared for her safety. It is now obvious to him that Perry believes he owns her, like a sodding pet. 

“She looks alright to me,” Ruth huffs, unbothered. “He didn’t get the chance to hurt her. Isn’t that right, lass?” 

Ruth looks Taylor over without showing her an inch of concern. Taylor forces herself to return Ruth’s stare, though any idiot can tell that she’s anything but comfortable. Even though they are both on the same side, Taylor still has reservations about Ruth. 

“Yeah,” Taylor breathes, shrugging her shoulders lightly. “I guess I’m alright. Per dragged him off me just in time.”

“See,” Ruth tells her son confirmatively, “you can call yourself a hero, my dear. You kept the lad from hurting your girl. But now it’s time for you to lay off him. You can’t blame him for having had an emotional day.”

“For fuck’s sake, Mum. Are you defending him now?” Perry fumes, towering over Miles once again. “Listen to me, you filthy swine. I know you. I know you’re no victim. You fucked Alexander like the faggot you are, didn’t you? You gave him exactly what he wanted. You’re just as sordid and depraved as he is, you – you sinner!” 

Miles watches Taylor’s expression. At the mention of Miles’s shared intimacy with Alex, she appears to frown. Not in disgust like everyone else, but in sorrow. She’s hurt. Jealous. Hence, Miles knows that she must be either in deep denial or she’s putting on an act. Her undying feelings for Alex are still there, just like Miles thought they would be. Perhaps it’s just a matter of time before Taylor realises that no matter how badly she wants to hate him, part of her will forever wish that Alex could be hers.

“What are you going to do to him?” Miles retorts angrily, wanting to remind Taylor that Alex is in actual danger. He’s now shifting his gaze in between Perry and Ruth, well aware that they must both have something awful in store for Alex and himself. “Where have you taken him? Answer me!” 

“Shut your mouth,” Perry threatens, but the menace falls short this time.

“That is none of your concern,” Ruth tells Miles sternly. “The separation from him is for your own good, you know. My nephew is only going to get you in trouble. You don’t need him.”

“You’re going to hurt him!” Miles shouts back at her relentlessly. “I know you are! You’re – you’re sick! You’re all evil and twisted.” Miles clutches his bruised cheek as he sits himself upright. “Taylor,” Miles demands, focusing on the blonde girl who is once again hiding behind Perry, pretending that none of this is her fault, “Taylor, you have to stop them! They are going to hurt him! You have to save Alex! Call the police-“

“Oh, fuck off,” Perry grunts, kicking Miles like a dog one last time. “She’s not going to do what you tell her to, idiot. She despises you.” 

“Perry,” Ruth warns her son. “I told you to stop harassing the lad.”

“Taylor, listen to me!” Miles persists urgently, but Taylor is still trying to avoid looking back at him. “They’ve got him chained up in the basement! They are going to hurt him, do you understand? They’ve already hurt him, he needs help. You have to call the police. They’re keeping us both trapped. They are starving him, they are beating him-“

“Stop whining, you pussy,” Perry snarls, but this time his mother is watching him and he doesn’t have the courage to touch Miles again. “Do you even realise how pathetic you sound?”

“Taylor, look at me – look at me!” Miles pleads, ignoring everyone else. “You’re the only one who knows we’re here! My parents – they are out there looking for me! You have to tell them where we are. Please…”

Taylor turns her back on him and Miles suddenly understands that she isn’t going to do shit in order to help them.

“Perhaps it’s time we show him back to the basement,” Ruth suggests unsympathetically. “I have a headache, I can’t have him shouting like this all day long…”

“Take me to Alex right now!” Miles screeches, taking his eyes off Taylor in an attempt to bargain with Ruth. “I want to see him – I h-have to be there for him. You’re hurting him – he needs me…”

“I told you, you will no longer be sharing a room with him,” Ruth persists cruelly, “you cannot be trusted around him. You will give into him. Alexander has got a bad influence on you, boy. I need to save you before he turns you into what he is.”

“A faggot,” Perry snorts, like he’s trying to decide whether the word is funny or deadly serious. “Don’t worry, Mum, I’ll put him away for you.”

“No!” Miles objects in horror. He backs away from them all by crawling backwards on the floor until his back meets the wall. There is nowhere for him to hide. “No, you can’t do this!” He feels his limbs shaking. “You can’t separate us! I need to make sure he’s okay! I – I have to watch over him…”

“He’ll be atoning for his sins for a long time to come,” Ruth warns him, “we need to keep him in isolation. He’s already corrupted your mind once, lad. I won’t let him do it again. He needs to pay for what he’s made you do.”

“He didn’t make me do anything!” Miles spits, drawing both knees to his chest. “You’re god damn crazy, do you know that? Alex hasn’t done anything wrong!”

This time, Taylor braves up and finds the courage to step out from behind the shield that is Perry. 

“You keep telling yourself that, Kane,” she hisses, looking genuinely offended by Miles’s longing to protect the person who’s hurt her the most, “but deep down, you know he’s guilty. You both are. So stop making all these stupid excuses for yourself.” 

Miles’s jaw drops and he cannot for the life of him believe that she is serious. 

“Are you really willing to let Alex suffer at your boyfriend’s hands, Taylor?” He challenges her, watching her pout with something awfully close to pure hatred. “Are you willing to let him die because he chose me and not you? Are you actually that heartless?”

“If it really came to that,” she speaks hostilely, crossing her arms over her chest, “I’d be the first to stick the knife in. I have no problem watching that bastard suffer. It’s what I came for, anyway.”

Miles freezes for a moment. As he looks into her icy, blue eyes, he is painfully unable to tell whether she means it or is simply trying to sound hard in order to fit in with the family. There is absolutely no way that she would actually want Alex dead, but at the same time, the Taylor that Miles once knew is long gone. Though she was once giddy and once flirting with Alex in every classroom, she now appears just as callous and coldblooded as Ruth herself – like there’s no ounce of humanity left in her.

“No wonder Alex never loved you back,” Miles mutters, feeling sickened to the bone as he maintains her gaze, “there’s absolutely nothing to love about you, is there? You’ve never been kind, or selfless. You’re the biggest piece of scum to ever walk on this planet, Taylor…”

While Taylor merely scowls at Miles, unable to respond to that burn, Perry springs forward.

“That’s it!” He howls as he reaches for Miles, hauling him up from the floor. “How dare you talk to her like that? I love that girl, you son of a bitch! And how dare you even suggest that she’s ever felt anything but revulsion for your faggot friend? She’s never loved him, do you understand? She hates him!”

“She only hates him because she used to love him!” Miles barks even as Perry shakes him vigorously, trying to fight the urge to punch him again. With Ruth still watching them, it appears that Miles is safe for now. “You kissed him, didn’t you, Taylor? You kissed him right in front of me and tell you what, Alex hated it! He had to push you away! And now you’re butt-hurt because he didn’t kiss you back!”

“Shut your fucking mouth, Kane!” Taylor fumes, though clearly, her cheeks are bright red with shame. “You liar!”

“Are you actually expecting me to believe that she, a goddess, would kiss a low-life like him?” Perry huffs, digging his fingernails so hard into Miles’s skin that he is beginning to draw blood. “How stupid do you think I am?”

“She’s fucking playing you, you moron!” Miles hits back at him, growling and squirming to pull himself free. “She’s only with you because she’s trying to make Alex jealous, can’t you see? It’s Alex that she wants, it always was! You’re even dumber than she is!”

“I told you to shut up!” Taylor cries with desperation, looking like she’s on the verge of punching Miles herself. “How dare you?! You don’t know shit – you don’t know me!”

“That’s enough,” Ruth grunts with annoyance, stepping in to break up the fight, “Perry, let go of him. I want him out of here. I can’t stand any more yelling.”

“But Mum, he’s lying about her. He’s lying about my girlfriend…”

“I don’t care, Percival, and I certainly don’t wish to get involved. Get him back downstairs, will you?” 

Perry stops shaking him and seizes the back of Miles’s neck instead, forcing his head down as though he’s readying him to go.

“No!” Miles panics, struggling furiously. “I’m not going back unless you show me where Alex is! You can’t do this to us! You c-can’t take him away from me…”

“Hold still, you little bugger,” Perry groans, beyond sick with Miles’s protests, “this is not up for discussion, do you hear me?”

“Let me go!” Miles pleads, wrestling and tussling under Perry’s mighty hand. “Please! Don’t do this…”

“I’m warning you, turd-face…”

“You’re going to hurt him! I know you are – you – you bastards!” Miles whines, whimpering as Perry grasps his shoulder, hard. “You can’t take him away from me! I need to be there for him! You’re all lunatics! He’s innocent! He hasn’t done anything wrong! You’re going to break him…”

“Oh yes we are,” Perry mutters as he keeps a straight face, “but first, you are going to go back to your miserable room, you rat.”

“No! I’m not going back – I’m not going back!” Miles declares madly, shaking his head. “Not without Alex…”

“Yes you are,” Ruth finally orders him in between clenched teeth, pulling the jack-knife back out from her pocket and holding it up to Miles’s throat, “I’m not letting you waste another moment of my time, kid. Now go!”

 

*

 

Ruth removes the knife from Miles’s throat when they reach the basement. However, Miles knows that they must have put Alex away in one of the rooms unknown to him and so, he begins to fight them once again.

“ALEX!” He cries, even when Perry twists his arms behind his back. “Alex, where are you?!”

“He’s not going to answer you,” Ruth grunts, “so save your breath, boy.”

“What the fuck do you mean he’s not going to answer me?” Miles snaps. “What have you done to him? Where is he?”

“He’s with my brothers,” Perry huffs, though Miles should have known as much, “don’t worry, turd-face, they won’t leave his side anytime soon.”

Miles gasps and wriggles as Perry pushes him forward, directing him back towards the room in which he woke up lying next to Alex not long ago. Ruth walks ahead of them to unlock the door and Miles’s instincts kick in; he doesn’t want to go back, not alone. Not without the other. It would be a world of cold concrete and brutal isolation and Miles cannot stand the thought.

“No – no, please!” He begs, though it doesn’t matter. “What are they doing to him? Are they hurting him? Why did you take him away? He didn’t do anything wrong, I swear!” 

“You broke my trust. You had sex with him under my roof,” Ruth suddenly thunders, storming towards Miles to stare him down while Perry holds him steadied, “you helped him commit the most foul, the most disgusting offense right under my nose. You’ve disrespected me and you should praise yourself lucky that I didn’t let my boys take you away, too.”

Before Miles can convey an answer, he is shoved across the doorstep and tossed back inside his and Alex’s room, which is nothing but a cruel chamber that allows no escape, no warmth, no hope whatsoever. Miles resists anxiously until Perry releases a growl and loses his patience with him. Pushing Miles to the floor harshly, the Sharpes, and Taylor, watch as he lands on all four, his body shaking uncontrollably.

“Wait!” Miles pleads even as they close the door on him and he hears the keys fiddling with the lock. “Wait, come back! Come back! Where have they taken him? What are they doing to him? Answer me!” 

He hears Taylor giggling from the other side of the door and then the footsteps begin to move away from him until their voices are too distant for Miles to detect. 

No. No, no, no, no, no… This can’t be happening. This can’t be real.

“RUTH!” Miles howls, suddenly slamming his palms against the door, banging away even though no one seems to be listening to him. “Ruth, get back here! Let me out, you bitch! I’m done putting up with your shit, do you hear me? LET ME OUT!” 

The tears are spilling from Miles’s eyes, blinding him amid his fury.

“TAYLOR!” He then attempts, though it’s no use. “Taylor, I’m sorry! I’m sorry, okay? I never should have said… I never should have called you…” Miles’s voice cracks and he can hardly breathe. “I’m sorry, alright? What more do you want from me? Just – just come back… You win! You win, just let Alex go. Let him go…” Miles sobs once or twice. Then he slams his clenched fists against the door, hard enough to bruise his bones. “Take me instead!” He weeps, resting his forehead up against the door, feeling absolutely devastated. “Take me instead and let Alex go! I’m begging you…”

He isn’t sure how much time he spends trying. He isn’t sure how long he keeps crying for. Within moments perhaps, Miles finds himself breaking down until he’s nothing but a sobbing mess, pressing himself down against the concrete floor face-first, pulling at his own hair, biting his lip bloody in an attempt to keep himself from screaming. What the fuck is happening? How could Miles have been so thoughtless? How could he not have seen this coming? Ruth was never joking when she threatened Miles into obedience, so how could he have been so stupid as to insult her in such an obvious, careless way? How could he have been so reckless, so irresponsible when he knew that the only one who was ever going to take the blame for their negligence was Alex and not himself?

“Alex…” Miles gasps in between troubled breaths. “I’m sorry. I’m s-sorry… I never meant for this to happen. I n-never thought they would…”

Miles stops himself for a moment and rolls over to lie flat on his back. Even though he’s out of reach, Alex is still close to him – so close that he can practically feel him. There is no way that Ruth would remove him from the basement and take the risk of exposing herself. Miles knows that Alex must still be in one of the adjacent rooms to this one and yet, he can’t hear him. He can’t hear a thing and surprisingly, it’s the silence that terrifies him the most. Why isn’t Alex calling for him? Why isn’t he banging on the door just like Miles did, begging Ruth for mercy? Miles realises that Terry and Harry are probably still with him. They may have gagged him and handcuffed him again. They may have done other things in order to silence him and just thinking about it makes Miles’s stomach drop. They have done it before and they can do it again. There is absolutely no one around to protect Alex this time. He’s all alone with them, helpless and vulnerable. 

Miles closes his eyes and thinks back to when he and Alex woke up next to each other the first time. Everything had seemed so blissful when Miles had held Alex close, guarding him, savouring his taste, his smell. For the first time since coming here, Miles had once again felt like a normal teenager who happened to have found love even under most desperate circumstances. Even when Alex’s expression had changed and he had warned Miles that reality was dawning upon him, even then had Miles felt too content, too peaceful to believe that their rebellious act of love, and of passion, would ever result in their downfall. But Alex had known. He had seen it all coming and yet, he had still chosen to stand his ground. He had still insisted on loving Miles and on staying by his side. Because after all, love can never be a crime and it should never be treated as a weakness. Alex chose to make it their strength. Their weapon.

Miles snivels and wipes at his eyes as he somehow manages to travel across the room. Slumping down on the mattress that still smells like Alex, he is simultaneously anguished and comforted by the memory of their momentary ecstasy, of the closeness that they have now shared. Picking up the shirt that Alex was never given enough time to put back on, Miles clutches it and buries his face in it, stunned to learn that the material is still warm. Once more, he is reminded that Alex is both so near and so out of his reach all at the same time. If he could only feel or touch him again, if he could only talk to him and be assured that he’s okay… Then, when Miles is tempted to break down again, he decides that if Alex can be strong, so can he. 

Miles owes him to stay clearheaded, to stay focused. Miles owes him to keep up hope and to somehow come up with a plan to tear down the walls that keep them apart. Anything is better than to give Ruth the satisfaction of letting their punishment crush their spirits. 

“I have to keep fighting,” Miles whispers to himself, talking into Alex’s shirt as though talking to an actual person, “that’s what Alex would want me to do. I can’t let her win. I can’t give up now. Together, we’re stronger than her. Together, we can out-smart her. Together…” Miles inhales with difficulty as the coldness of this room is already getting to him. “Together,” he simply repeats because that’s the word that keeps playing in his mind, “together.”

 

*

 

The following days, Matt, Nick and Jamie begin to realise that Taylor’s no longer showing up for school. Ever since seeing her get in the car with Alex’s vile cousin, they have in all secrecy been hoping to catch her unaware and alone. Seeing as there are three of them and only one of her, part of their plan has been to, well, not gang up on her per say, but certainly to make it clear to her that they want to talk. No more bullshit. No more evasion and dodging their questions. If she knows something about Alex and Miles’s whereabouts, they are going to make damn sure that she shares her knowledge with the rest of the group.

“I can’t wait ‘till I get my hands on that little liar,” Jamie utters with abhorrence when, after three longsome days, there is still no sign of her, “it’s so obvious that she knows something! She wouldn’t be avoiding us otherwise. I can’t believe her! This is Alex we’re talking about! She used to jump through hoops for him. Now she’s acting like she never wants the police to find him again. I don’t get it.”

“I’ve never met anyone more fucked-up in my life,” Nick speaks sombrely, “I mean, what the fuck is she doing fooling around with Perry Sharpe these days? He is the ugliest shit I’ve ever laid my eyes on. She can’t possibly find him attractive.” 

The three of them are walking slowly down the hallway when Matt nods and guides them inside the boys’ room to talk privately. 

“Listen, I’ve got a theory,” Matt tells them after making sure that there is no one else occupying the toilets, “I think she’s with Perry for protection. She knows we’re on to her and so, she’s using him as some sort of bodyguard. She’s shielding herself against us.”

“Which is why we need to catch her on her own,” Nick nods in agreement, “we don’t stand a chance against any of Alex’s cousins.” 

“That sneaky bitch!” Jamie groans, slamming his open palm against the tiled wall. “I would never in my life hit a girl, but if something happens to Al and Miles that she could have prevented, I am not going to make that exception for her…”

“I hear you,” Matt sighs, “but we have to be careful. If you touch a hair on her head, Jamie, she’ll never cooperate.”

“If we don’t find her soon, we’ll never get anything out of her anyway,” Nick points out. “I don’t know, lads, I’m getting a little sick of waiting for her to appear. It feels like a major waste of time.”

“So, what? You want to go to her house?” Matt shakes his head. “I don’t think we should risk it. Perry might be there. Or her parents. Remember, we have to talk to her when she’s alone. When there is no one around to back her up.”

“Nick is right, though,” Jamie interjects, “we are wasting our time just waiting around for her! We should go talk to one of her friends. Ask them where she might be.”

As Jamie crosses his arms determinedly, he can’t help but to notice Matt and Nick exchanging looks with one another.

“What?” He snaps, eyeing them both warily. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Do you remember Taylor’s friend, Katie?” Matt utters cautiously, watching Jamie’s expression of surprise. “Come on, don’t pretend you don’t know who I’m talking about. Katie, the little blonde one. Very pretty.”

“The one that’s been undressing you with her eyes every time she sees you,” Nick chuckles, lightening the mood for a moment, “I’ve seen her watching you from afar, Cookie. We all have.”

Jamie hesitates for a moment, unsure how to react to this statement. 

“Fuck’s sake, lads,” he grunts, hoping with all his heart that his warming cheeks won’t give him away, “now is not the time to take the piss. I don’t socialise with Taylor’s friends and you know that. Not after the way she’s been betraying Alex.”

“You don’t have to socialise with her,” Nick assures him, “although she’s totally into you, man. You could have her if you wanted.”

“What Nick is trying to say,” Matt swiftly elaborates, “is that you should take advantage of her fancying you. Go talk to her, ask her a few questions about Taylor. Ask her if the bitch has been acting weird lately. Hell, Taylor could have even told her what she knows about Al and Miles.”

“And if she has,” Nick supplements, “you could get Katie to spill the beans. I’m sure she wouldn’t decline you if you asked her real nicely.” Nick laughs quietly. “In fact, I think you might win her over quite easily.”

Feeling suddenly backed into a corner, Jamie can no longer tell if they are messing with him or actually asking this of him as a favour.

“Are you guys for real?” He exclaims, staring straight into sincere eyes. “You can’t be serious. You want me to start a conversation with a girl I’ve never talked to before and ask her about Taylor? You want me to just casually ask this girl if her friend happens to have shared any secrets with her over the past few weeks? Yeah right, that doesn’t sound awkward at all!”

“Forget awkward,” Matt pleads, “this is about Alex and Miles. If she knows anything – anything at all, Jamie, perhaps we could find a way to help them. To bring them back home.”

“What are you expecting this girl to know?” Jamie objects. “It’s not like she’s just going to give me an address of their whereabouts. If she knew anything about their disappearance, she would probably have told the police by now.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. Taylor knows something,” Nick huffs, “and she didn’t tell the police shit.”

“Jamie, please,” Matt attempts one last time, placing his hand on top of the other’s shoulder, “if there’s even the slightest chance that Katie can tell you something, don’t you think it’s worth the try? We have to start somewhere. Alex and Miles are out there and we need to get to them. We all have to make sacrifices if we can.”

“Katie has been hanging out with Taylor for years,” Nick reminds him, “and you know how girls talk. This could actually be a breakthrough. Our breakthrough.” 

Detecting a hint of anxiousness in both their voices, Jamie takes in a deep breath. His guts feel heavier than normal and already, he feels guilty for stalling. 

“Alright, fine,” he finally sighs, shaking his head slightly, “you’re right. Of course you’re right. If there’s a chance this might actually work, I have to go for it. I just wish I wasn’t so popular with the girls. It’s hard work. You guys wouldn’t know.”

 

*

 

They watch Jamie take Taylor’s friend, Katie, aside later that day, quietly asking her for a minute of her time. At first, Jamie seems nervous and self-aware and because of his obvious awkwardness, it becomes clear to Matt and Nick that Katie had expected him to ask her a much more personal question. She’s smiling up at the blond lad, touching her hair and leaning herself up against the nearest wall, looking him straight in the eyes the whole time. However, as soon as Katie realises that Jamie isn’t trying to ask her out, she begins to look increasingly confused and disappointed.

“He’s losing her interest,” Matt whispers to Nick as they watch them from a distance, “she looks like she’s barely listening anymore.”

“Bloody hell – I told him to be charming. Not to push her away,” Nick curses. “Come on, Jamie. Win her over. Touch her arm or summat. Anything!”

As if able to hear the frustrated whispers of his mates, Jamie slowly begins to approach the situation from a different angle. Sensing that this girl, Katie, had hoped for more, had hoped for his attention, even, Jamie suddenly understands that he needs to change his attitude towards her.

“You know, Katie,” he hears himself saying, grateful that Matt and Nick can’t hear him and hence, won’t be able to take the piss out of him later, “I’ve actually been meaning to talk to you for some time now.”

Just like that, Katie raises her head in new-found fascination. As her mouth falls slightly open and she studies the much taller lad with eager eyes, she can’t help but to blush slightly.

“You have?” Her voice is sweet and if Jamie must be honest, quite endearing, too. “We barely even know each other.”

“I know, but…” Jamie bites his lip, clenching his hot and sweaty palms. He can’t tell if he’s trying to mislead this girl or not. He can’t tell if he intends to play her or if he’s actually been meaning to get to know her. Katie’s always been a popular girl. Everyone likes Katie. Maybe Jamie genuinely did mean to talk to her some day. Maybe he doesn’t have to feel so guilty for doing this after all. “But I’ve always wanted to know you better,” he says. “I’ve seen you hanging out with Taylor so many times. We tend to go to the same parties, I’ve just… never had the courage to say hi, I guess.”

Unsurprisingly, Katie seems incredibly pleased by this.

“You’ve never had the courage?” She giggles lightly, blinking up at him with her big, blue eyes a couple of times. “You know, I don’t bite. You could have said hi to me if you wanted. I wouldn’t have minded.”

Her smile widens and Jamie can tell that she’s building up her expectations anew.

“Is that so?” He grins, raising an eyebrow flirtatiously. “Well, in that case, I wish I had found the courage to talk to you a lot sooner.”

“So do I,” she chuckles, suddenly running her fingers down his arm, inching closer, “I was beginning to give up on you, Cook.”

“Give up on me?”

“I’ve been trying to tell you a few times,” she elaborates, but Jamie is still not following her. “I’ve been trying to send a few smiles your way, but you never seemed to catch on. If you know what I mean.”

When she touches him again, Jamie quickly learns.

“I wasn’t trying to ignore your smiles,” he improvises, although now he feels like an idiot for having over-looked this girl just because she is part of Taylor’s group. “Forgive me, I can be a right idiot. I’m bad at reading signals from other people.”

“Well, now you know.” She inches slightly closer again and Jamie takes in the sweet smell of her perfume. “Seems like we’ve both been eager to get to know each other,” she smirks.

“I know. And I would have said hi a lot sooner if it wasn’t for…” Jamie stops himself, playing his part skilfully.

“What?” She asks him, detecting his troubled look with concern. “Are you alright?”

“It’s just been so hard lately,” Jamie bursts out, wrapping his arms around himself and hoping it doesn’t make him look too pathetic. “I haven’t been myself. Not since…”

“Oh my God,” she gasps as she seems to understand where he’s going with this, “your friends. I feel so stupid. I should have thought about that.” Her eyes become almost mournful and Jamie is profoundly stunned by her compassion. “I heard about Alex. When he disappeared, everyone was so shocked. And now you’re other friend, too. I forget his name.”

“Miles,” Jamie sniffs, pretending there are tears in his eyes when there isn’t, “no one’s heard from them. No one knows where they are. I can’t even be sure if they’re still alive or not…”

“Gosh, I am so sorry!” She utters, looking like she’s keen to wrap Jamie up in a big hug, though she stops herself from doing that. “I can’t imagine what you must be going through. You poor thing.”

“No,” Jamie says with a shake of his head, “no, I’m sorry. I’ve been meaning to talk to you, Katie, I really have. I’ve just not been able to think since they disappeared. I haven’t been able to sleep. Or eat. Or anything.”

“You don’t have to apologise for anything,” she assures him, placing her hand securely on his wrist, comforting him. Jamie’s never before realised how warm she can be. How caring. It’s amazing to see how unlike Taylor she is. “God, you and your friends must be devastated. You must be scared out of your minds.”

“I am scared,” Jamie admits, tensing at the sensation of her hand on his skin. “It’s so hard to keep on hoping, but I have to. I have to believe that they are safe.”

“The police are doing everything they can, I’m sure,” Katie reasons. “They will be able to find them. I know they will.”

“No,” Jamie mutters, adapting a serious look on his face. “No, I don’t believe the chances are very good. Not at the moment.”

“What makes you say that?” She questions, her voice full of fear and sympathy.

“The police haven’t been given much information,” he tells her, pulling an agonised face. “They have no leads. No clues at all. They’ve been trying to ask a lot of people who know Alex and Miles, but…”

“But what?”

“But people haven’t been very helpful,” Jamie sighs. “It’s like some of them are withholding information. It’s like someone doesn’t want them to be found.”

Reasonably enough, Katie appears doubtful. 

“I can’t believe anyone would be so cruel,” she exclaims, shaking her head, “no, Jamie, I’m sure that’s not true. I’m sure everyone would do whatever they can to help them. Alex was – is – a well-liked guy, right? And I’m sure Miles is, too.”

“Yeah,” Jamie chuckles darkly, though he forces a small smile, “they are well-liked, I suppose. They are good blokes, believe me. Alex is like the best friend I’ve ever had. However…” Jamie’s look darkens as he wants to give her the impression that he’s not only heart-broken. He also feels betrayed. “There is one person who could have been working against them. Someone who’s been very bitter for a long time.”

“Someone who knows something?” Katie guesses, though she still doesn’t realise what the plot-twist is.

“Maybe,” Jamie nods, “I mean, I’m almost certain. When the police came to interview Alex and Miles’s classmates, this one person avoided being questioned. She acted like she has something to hide, claiming that she didn’t want to talk to the police because she had no information. But the truth is, she’s been close to Alex for a long time. If anyone was to know something, it would have to be her.”

Katie looks frozen for a moment and her hand retracts itself from Jamie’s arm. 

“No,” she whispers and just like that, Jamie can tell that she knows. Taylor’s name doesn’t even have to be spoken out loud. “No, surely not,” Katie insists, “she wouldn’t… She couldn’t be so stupid…”

“Katie,” Jamie suddenly pleads, trying his hardest to reach a girl that shouldn’t be involved in this, that has absolutely no reason to pick his side over her friend’s, “I need your help.” Jamie takes a hold of both her hands, keeping her from turning away. “It’s very important that you tell me everything Taylor’s said to you about Alex. Even if it’s nasty things. Even if it’s nothing but bullshit. She’s been infatuated – no, obsessed – with him for so long, she used to know his whereabouts twenty-four-seven. She used to follow him everywhere until it was borderline stalking and now, suddenly she claims she doesn’t care where he is. It doesn’t seem right, does it? So Katie, I’m begging you, please – if she’s told you anything, anything at all, you have to tell me. We have to find him and bring him and Miles back home.”

 

*

 

When Matt and Nick catch up with Jamie again later outside the school building, they are both disappointed to be met with a defeated frown from their friend.

“She doesn’t know anything,” Jamie sighs tiredly, looking even more agitated than before. “It’s hopeless. Whatever Taylor knows, she’s been keeping it all to herself.”

“What?” Nick exclaims – he had felt so reassured that Jamie’s talk with Katie went down well. “No, I can’t believe it! She must have been lying to you. She must have been trying to protect Taylor.”

“I’m telling you, Nick, she was completely honest with me,” Jamie says with a shake of his head, “I could tell she wasn’t trying to hide anything. She kept apologising to me for not having any answers. She looked like she was desperate to help, even though she couldn’t.”

“You sure she wasn’t the one playing you?” Matt suggests sceptically, sharing Nick’s disbelief. “I mean, she used to hang around Taylor all the time.”

“That’s right, Matt. Used to.” Jamie pauses to light a cigarette. “Apparently, Taylor’s been cutting out a lot of her old friends recently, Katie included. The girls barely talk anymore.”

“How convenient,” Nick huffs, “just when we’re looking for answers, the girls stop talking.”

“Nick, listen to me,” Jamie growls, “Katie’s not like Taylor. She’s not her accomplice. She was friendly. And kind. She would have told me anything she knows.”

“And how do you know?” Matt asks with a hint of curiosity. “What makes you think she’s all devoted to you and not Taylor? I know she’s got the hots for you, Cookie, but let’s be real for a moment.” 

“Unless… He flirted with her,” Nick decides suddenly, “I told you, he would win her over by flirting!” He laughs loudly. “I’m impressed, Cookie, it didn’t take you long to seduce her.”

“Fuck off,” Jamie retorts moodily, “you make it sound like I took advantage. Like I had her all… fooled.”

“It’s only taking advantage if you tell her stuff you don’t mean,” Matt reminds him, winking mischievously and provoking him further, “but who knows. Maybe you do genuinely like her. Maybe you meant every word you said to her.”

“You don’t know what was said between us,” Jamie utters as he takes a drag from his cigarette, “all I’ll say is that she’s a nice girl. I would never toy with her.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you wouldn’t,” Nick teases. “Bloody hell, Jamie, you’re such a Casanova.”

“Guys, look,” Jamie interferes as he’s had enough, “you’re forgetting what’s important here. Forget Katie, she doesn’t need to be involved. But we did learn one thing.”

“What? That Taylor is a horrible friend to everyone?” Matt snorts.

“Exactly! She hasn’t only turned against us, but against everyone. Even all her girl friends,” Jamie points out significantly. “So the question is – why would you cut so many people out of your life if you had nothing to hide?”

 

*

 

It’s been six days inside Miles’s private isolation cell and he’s slowly beginning to lose not only his sense of time, but his mind, too. He can no longer tell what time of day it is unless someone enters his room to serve him either breakfast or supper. He’s lost his internal body clock or perhaps, he’s stopped listening to it instead. He’s been spending most days in bed or rather, lying on his mattress with the covers pulled up to his chin whilst staring blindly into the wall as if secretly hoping to discover a magic answer hidden within his own unconsciousness. Everything seems lost. Everything seems hopeless. Pointless. Man was not meant to spend his days in misery and seclusion and as a result of this painful madness, Miles now struggles to find meaning in anything.

He can’t get to Alex. Alex can’t get to him. That’s all he knows. That’s all he remembers, every second of every day. They are both powerless to fight back. They are both unable to make their captors listen. Begging for mercy has proven useless. There is nothing left to do except wait. Wait for this maddening punishment to be over.

Miles was brought his supper what seems like a couple of hours ago and so, he vaguely assumes the time to be in the middle of the evening. However, it’s not like he cares anymore. He’s left his supper untouched although he knows a hunger strike won’t get him anywhere. There’s no way that he would be able to starve himself to death and even if he tried, Ruth wouldn’t care enough about him to interfere. He would be harming himself for no reason whatsoever. It wouldn’t do Alex any favours. Rather, Miles should probably preserve his strength for as long as possible. Alex needs him to be strong when he falls weak. If he’ll ever see him again, Miles would like not to have let him down. And still, he can’t find the will to grab his plate and eat his food. Not tonight, anyway. 

He stays like this for another hour or so. He’s painfully unable to sleep and seeing as there is no other way for him to kill time, watching the unmoving, unanimated wall is the only thing that keeps him from going insane. 

This is what they wanted all along. To break him. To make him question his own sanity. And though he isn’t sure how much longer he can go on like this without losing it completely, he has to force himself to stay silent. Patient. Optimistic. Alex isn’t far away at all. And even if they can’t reach each other just yet, perhaps they can in spirit. 

“Alex…” Miles whispers another while later, right before closing his eyes in an attempt to numb himself and fall asleep. “Alex, I’m here. I’m still here.”

It feels like an eternity later although it probably isn’t. Miles’s eyes pop open at the sudden sound of screaming coming from what appears to be the other side of the wall. In a heartbeat, Miles jumps up from the mattress, believing himself to have been caught in a nightmare. However, as he awakes and takes a look around him, the screaming continues. It’s real. So excruciatingly real.

“ALEX!” Miles shouts as he recognises the other’s voice instantly. “No! No – ALEX!”

Without hesitation, Miles throws himself against the wall, hammering both hands against the cold surface as though disillusioned enough to believe that he might actually be able to claw his way through to the other side. All this time, he hasn’t heard a single sound from the adjacent room. No sign of life from Alex at all. The past few days, it’s almost felt like Alex wasn’t really there after all. Like he didn’t exist. Until now. 

The screams intensify and become increasingly urgent. Alex’s voice is not only desperate with pain, or with horror; he’s begging. He’s struggling. He’s pleading for mercy and Miles can practically hear the laughter coming from Ruth’s sons. They have only just begun.

“NO!” Miles howls feeling his body shaking with dread and even as he slams his hands against the wall harder, he doubts that they are listening. “No, stop it! Leave him alone! LEAVE HIM ALONE!” 

Miles feels the panic exiting his body through his anxious yelling, through his sweaty palms and through the tears stinging in his eyes. His heartrate increases with every shaky breath until it feels like it’s going to jump out of his chest. He can’t breathe. He feels frozen and blinded with despair and helplessness. This is his worst fear coming true and Miles reacts accordingly. They are hurting Alex and he is powerless to hinder them. He knew this was going to happen. He fucking knew it. 

Alex produces an even more harrowing scream that makes the hairs stand on Miles’s arms. He screams and screams until his voice breaks and he starts crying instead. This is Miles’s punishment and Ruth planned it all along. She knew what Alex’s screams would do to him.

“NO!” Miles pleads again, barely able to register the tears running down both cheeks and staining his shirt. “STOP IT! I’M BEGGING YOU! LEAVE HIM ALONE!”

Alex is sobbing fiercely somewhere behind the wall right until an unknown torment forces him to scream again. Though Miles knows he’s brave, they must be putting him through something he’s unable to fight. 

“Alex!” Miles exclaims, his voice raspy and raw with emotion. “Alex, no…” Taking in a deep breath, Miles is barely able to utter another prayer without choking. “Please, don’t let this be true. Please, God, don’t let this happen. Please…”

Alex’s cries grow increasingly desperate. There is nothing going on to replace or interrupt his whimpers or sobs, they merely continue until Alex must be losing his voice from exhaustion. There is no merciful break in which the brothers allow him to catch his breath. There is no indication whatsoever that they are going to finish with him any time soon. They are still having their fun and Miles is still left to fling himself against the wall in an attempt to knock the whole house down.

“I’LL KILL YOU!” Miles thunders, suddenly reaching for his plate that’s left on the floor. “I’LL FUCKING CUT YOUR THROATS, DO YOU HEAR ME?” Smashing the plate against the wall, Miles lets out an animal-like howl. Bellowing and cursing them all from the top of his lungs, he watches as potatoes fly across the room only to bounce off the wall and spill all over the floor. Gravy has started dripping down the wall, leaving behind patterns of tears and chaos. “I’ll kill you!” He swears one more time as he falls unto his knees and covers his face with both hands. “You’re monsters! You’re the fucking sinners here! You’re… you’re breaking him…”

Alex’s screams sound again, shrill and strident. They are piercing their way through Miles’s ears and Miles can’t take it anymore.

“Alex…” Miles weeps, suddenly covering his ears with both hands. He can’t help it. Alex’s pain is something too cruel to ignore and yet, Miles realises he must prevent himself from going crazy. “Alex, I’m sorry,” he gasps as he struggles to stifle his sobs, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

Pressing a finger firmly inside both ears, Miles whimpers when he can still hear the shattering sound of Alex begging for his life. It won’t go away. No matter how hard he tries, the agony persists. There is nowhere for him to hide from it. It’s right in front of him, slapping him in the face when all he wants to do is pretend that none of this is real.

“Go away,” Miles chokes, closing his eyes stubbornly, “go away! I can’t do this anymore… Won’t you please shut up? Shut up. Shut up. SHUT UP!” 

Battling a new range of voices inside his head, Miles finds himself screaming in order to outshout everything else. He yells and screeches until the rest of the world turns silent. Backing himself into the furthest corner of his cell, Miles doesn’t remove his hands from his ears until either him or Alex stops crying and falls slack with fatigue. Who broke down first, he will never know.

 

*

 

Miles only realises that it’s now early morning because there is a knock on his door. The knock only sounds once and when Miles doesn’t say anything, the door unlocks without further hesitation. Miles remains perfectly still in his corner, his knees drawn to his chest and his forehead resting against his folded arms. When he hears footsteps approaching him, he doesn’t care. He doesn’t have it in him to feel any fear, or pain, or anger. Not anymore. Even when the footsteps still and Terry notices the food that Miles has tossed across the room, Miles can’t bring himself to worry.

“It’s time for your toilet privilege,” Terry informs him after a moment, expecting Miles to get up from the floor. “Hey, wanker!” He raises his voice when he fails to get a reaction. “Don’t be wasting my time now. Do you wanna use the toilet or do you wanna wait another six hours?”

Miles raises his head slowly. As he looks up into Terry’s face, the older man laughs at his expression. If Miles looks anything like he feels, it’s no wonder he’s finding it hilarious. After all, they’ve always wanted to see him broken and beaten, haven’t they?

“Y-yes,” Miles croaks, suddenly reminded that he’s lost his voice from all the crying.

“Yes what, dickhead?”

“I wanna use the toilet.”

Detecting Miles’s defeat, Terry smirks evilly. 

“Not good enough,” he grins. “You know the magic word.”

“P-please,” Miles utters with force, though it physically hurts to stoop this low. “May I?”

“Alright, that’s more like it,” Terry responds, sounding pleased. “I was going to slap you silly for a moment for breaking that plate and for wasting my Mum’s good food.” He pauses to take a second glance at the potatoes lying on the floor in a pile of shattered, cheap porcelain. “However, I’m guessing it’s been a rough night for you.” He laughs again. “Did the screaming keep you up? I can tell you haven’t slept. You look like shit.”

Miles shudders with disgust and it’s taking him all the willpower in the world to remain calm.

“I’m fine,” he grunts, though his eyes are burning with hate, “I just need the toilet.”

Terry pretends to consider this for a moment. Then he decides that he’s teased him enough.

“Get up, then,” he orders him. “And be quick, will you?”

Terry forgets to use his handcuffs on him. Terry forgets to check his pockets.

As they step outside, Miles sees that the door to the bathroom has been opened and that the light is switched on. When Terry pushes him forward and forces him to walk, he learns that the bathroom is already occupied by Perry and Taylor who both turn their heads around to stare him down. Perry keeps his eyes on him while Taylor is quick to look away. Something in her demeanour has changed. It’s not that she’s intimidated or less confident than she was before. Rather, she looks sickened. Traumatised. She looks like she no longer knows what she’s doing here. 

“I’m not peeing in front of them,” Miles hisses even as Terry clutches his shoulder and pushes him forward once more.

“Oh yes you are,” Terry snaps impatiently, “you’re not getting any more special treatment, princess. Do you understand?” 

“It’s fine, I don’t want to watch this jerk-off take a piss, anyway,” Perry snorts as he turns away from the sink and walks up to stand in front of Miles. “You would love for us to watch your tiny cock, wouldn’t you, faggot? Well, it ain’t gonna happen.”

Miles then realises that Perry is stood in front of him because he wants him to look at him. There are large pigments of dried blood staining his shirt and from the looks of it, he and Taylor were trying to rinse it off by the sink just now. Watching Miles watching the blood – Alex’s blood – and freezing with horror, Perry smiles triumphantly.

“Anything you wanna say to me, faggot?” He challenges him, sporting the bloodstains almost proudly. Miles turns his head to give Taylor a second look. She’s deadly pale. Her silence is enough make Miles’s blood run cold. “Hey! Look at me,” Perry taunts and he suddenly lifts the stained part of his shirt up to his mouth. Giving the dried blood a lick, he makes a sound like a wild animal and breaks into laughter. Taylor turns her face away from him, watching the wall instead. “What are you going to do about it, you bell-end? Tell me! What are you going to do about it?”

Miles’s eyes are threatening to fill with water again, but he manages to swallow once before shrugging his shoulders.

“There’s nothing I can do about it,” he whispers simply, fooling the brothers with his pitiful tone.

“That’s right!” Perry bellows like a mad-man and Terry, too, is chuckling behind Miles’s back. “You’re just going to have to fucking live with it, aren’t you?”

“He gets your point, Per,” Terry grins, delighted by his brother’s jubilation, “but don’t you ever lick that faggot-blood again. That’s the god-damn grossest thing I’ve ever seen!”

“Oh, come on, it’s not like you can catch it!” Perry jokes. “Anyway, I gotta go burn this shirt. It’s not coming off.” Walking over to Taylor he fails to notice her vexed expression. “Watch him for me, baby, will you?” He slaps her arse playfully even though she looks like she wants to push him away. “Watch him take a piss for me, will you, baby? That’ll show him. You’re such a good girl, come here.”

He kisses her cheek and Taylor doesn’t respond to it. When Perry exits the room, Terry closes the door behind him and leans himself against it.

“If that bladder of yours needs emptying, you do it now,” he warns Miles though he remains vague about what’s keeping him so busy. “This was only supposed to take ten fucking seconds.”

Instead of heading for the loo, Miles takes a step towards Taylor.

“Now do you see who you’re dealing with?” Miles asks her in between clenched teeth. He’s been fighting his anger until now and it suddenly feels like it’s eating him up inside.

“Hey!” Terry complains. “I told you to stop wasting my time.”

Taylor returns Miles’s stare without backing away from him. Her eyes are dark and serious. She looks like she wants to vomit.

“Now you’ve seen what they do to him, Taylor,” Miles barks at her. “Now you’ve fucking had your revenge, haven’t you?”

“Kane…” Taylor sighs exhaustedly, leaning herself against the sink. “Just leave me the fuck alone.”

“Why? Are you tired? Did Alex’s screaming keep you up all night, too?” Miles catches Terry watching him, but he appears to be more amused than concerned. He looks like he wants to know what Miles is planning on doing with his anger. 

“You’re fighting the wrong person here,” Taylor then snaps and for the first time, it feels like she might actually be right. “You’re wasting your time if you think I wanna talk to you.” 

“You’ve seen what they’ve done to him, I can tell!” Miles spits. “You can’t deny it anymore. These people are maniacs! They’ve tortured him and it’s far from the first time! Is Alex even still alive?” The question has left Miles’s tongue so swiftly, he only feels the sting of it afterwards.

Taylor’s skin is so ashen and her eyes slightly red. She looks like she might suffer a mental breakdown any minute and it makes Miles wonder what she’s witnessed.

“Of course he is. They – we – aren’t done with him yet,” she utters darkly, her honesty taking Miles by surprise. “But even if he wasn’t alive for much longer…” She hesitates, hanging her head slightly. “There’s nothing you can do about it. Is there?”

‘Is there?’ She isn’t telling him. She’s asking him. Perhaps she’s suddenly hoping for a way out, too.

“Maybe there is. Maybe there isn’t,” Miles stalls. Reaching a hand into his pocket, he catches Terry studying him closely.

“What have you got there, you imbecile?”

Miles doesn’t answer him. He is close to Taylor whereas Terry is all the way across the room. Miles calculates the distance between them before he makes a decision. Taylor is watching Terry watch Miles before she falls suspicious, too. Her brows furrow, but she stays completely still. She doesn’t know what to do.

“Hey – dimwit! I said, what have you got there?” 

Before Terry is able to launch, Miles yanks the jagged piece of porcelain out of his pocket that he’s collected from his smashed dinner plate. Leaping upon Taylor, the perfect hostage and the only one of his adversaries that Miles is physically capable of overpowering, he grabs her from behind and holds the sharpened point of his weapon against her bared throat.

“STAY BACK!” He warns Terry who’s already crossed half the distance between them. “I will slit her throat if you don’t BACK OFF!”

Taylor whimpers instantly and struggles in Miles’s arms, but knowing that this is probably the only chance he’ll ever have to take control and fight back, Miles holds onto her for dear life. If he loses Taylor as his hostage, he’ll never again have anything to bargain with. 

“You son of a bitch, Kane!” Taylor screeches and tussles madly. “Let me go! What the fuck are you doing?”

“If you think I will think twice about killing you, you bitch, you’re wrong!” Miles yells into her ear, pressing the porcelain shard harder against her skin. “I’m here to rescue Alex, don’t you get it? Meantime, I don’t care if you make out alive it or not!”

“Fucking hell!” Terry barks, looking completely dumbfounded. “Do you actually think this is going to get you out, you muppet? How fucking stupid are you?”

“Terry!” Taylor pleads. “Do something!”

“Stay where you are!” Miles threatens him again. “This is sharp enough to stab her all the way through the neck, do you hear me? I’m not fucking messing around!”

“What do you want from me, you arsehole?” Taylor cries with fury. “I told you, I’m not the bad guy here! Do you think I’ve actually touched a hair on Alex’s head?”

“No, but you didn’t have to!” Miles fumes. “You let your boyfriend do the dirty work for you! The blood on his shirt was fucking hard to miss!”

“You really think I made that call?!” Taylor swallows slightly nervously this time. “I’m not in charge! I never was! I wouldn’t have told him to do what he did!”

“Oh right, ‘cause you’re so caring! You wouldn’t hurt a fly, would you?” Miles huffs. “Tell me the fucking truth – is Alex still alive?”

“For crying out loud!” Taylor hisses when Miles wraps his arm around her throat tightly. “YES! Just – just let go of me,” she rasps. “You’re – you’re only making things worse for yourself!”

“Things couldn’t possibly BE any worse!” Miles hollers. “What did you do to him?! What the fuck did you do to him? I saw it in your eyes, Taylor! You are in shock, aren’t you? I bet you’ve never witnessed torture before, have you? So what the fuck happened to him?!”

“Put that down, right now!” Terry orders him, keeping his eyes on the shard in Miles’s hand. Though Taylor isn’t a person of his interest, she’s been part of his team and that’s enough for him to remain cautious. “I swear to God, you little piece of shit – if you don’t let go of her right now, I’m going to kill you!” 

“If you don’t stop talking, I will kill her!” Miles counters, too upset to worry that he won’t have the upper hand for long. “You better do as I say because I am losing my patience!”

“Miles, just listen,” Taylor begs, choking slightly in his grasp, “y-you’re not thinking clearly! Who do you think will pay for your mistakes? It won’t be you, it will be Alex!”

“Is that a threat?” He thunders, dragging the shard across her skin and drawing a thin line of blood. “Are you fucking threatening me, Taylor?!”

“Terry, DO SOMETHING!” Taylor pleads again, trembling all over with fear. “He’s hurting me!”

“What the fuck do you want, Kane?” Terry inquires, using Miles’s name for the first time. “Tell me! What do you want?”

“I want to see Alex!” Miles cries, feeling his fingertips shake and his body grow weaker. He’s built up so much emotion, so much anxiety, that he fears he might burst. “Take me to him RIGHT NOW! Right now or I will cut her!”

“You have to let go of her first,” Terry negotiates, but Miles wasn’t born yesterday. 

“Take me to him right now!” He demands. “I won’t let go of her until I make sure he’s okay!”

“Miles, please!” Taylor gasps, writhing miserably. “You don’t know what you’re asking! You – you probably shouldn’t see him right now…”

She struggles again and Miles swallows a lump in his throat. Is she trying to play tricks on him or is she actually cautioning him? Then again, if he can’t be with Alex, what’s the point in anything? 

“What is that supposed to mean?” He articulates with revulsion. “He’s hurt, I have to be with him. I have to see if he’s okay. Show me where he is!”

“Trust me!” She shouts frantically and this time, she sounds like she’s speaking from experience. “You don’t want to see him right now. And he doesn’t want to be seen by anyone…”

Before Miles is able to make sense of her warning, the door to the bathroom is kicked in and everyone looks up to see Perry standing in the doorway with his mother behind him. Having heard their voices from upstairs, Perry has now returned to find Miles with an arm wrapped around his girlfriend’s throat. While Ruth barely reacts to the scene, Perry springs forward as he’s overpowered by sheer rage.

“I will kill you, you rat!” He roars like a feral beast as he runs straight towards Miles. “I will fucking kill you!”


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miles threatens to kill Taylor if he doesn't get Alex back. However, getting Alex back doesn't mean securing anyone's safety.
> 
> Matt makes a shocking confession to someone who might be able to help him take Ruth down.
> 
> The drama intensifies and Miles is forced to confront an enemy in order to find out what has happened to Alex.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been on a roll and written the longest chapter to date, so beware.
> 
> Warning: Graphic and in-depth descriptions of violence and torture.
> 
> I'm afraid that things are getting worse before they can get better.

Perry approaches Miles murderously and the only thing Miles can think of is to drag the shard of porcelain against Taylor’s throat hard enough to make her wail. 

“No! No, stop!” She screams, her eyes seeking her boyfriend’s with desperation. “He’ll stab me! Don’t come any closer!”

Miles presses against her windpipe forcefully. The idea of accidentally slashing her throat terrifies him for a moment. After all, everything he needs is a bluff. Not a fucking murder on his hands.

“He’s not going to fucking stab you with a sodding piece of ceramic,” Perry reasons, though he stops himself regardless. The fear in Taylor’s eyes is enough to shake him, it seems. “You son of a bitch!” He shouts helplessly and finally, Perry Sharpe gets a taste of what it feels like to watch a loved one suffer without being able to help them. “Let her go!”

“Let me and Alex go!” Miles retorts frantically. “Where the fuck is he even?! Take me to him RIGHT NOW!” 

“No fucking way am I giving into you!” Perry thunders, but this time, even his allies are disagreeing with him.

“What the fuck!” Taylor barks angrily as she claws manically at Miles’s arm. “Do as he says, Per! Don’t you fucking get it? He’s not kidding! He’ll hurt me!”

“It’s a fucking chip from a dinner plate, baby,” Perry exclaims, though he’s now running both hands through his hair nervously. “I mean, it’s not like it’s a knife, or a gun…”

“Are you serious right now?” She snaps, now fighting him instead of Miles. “Are you actually willing to let him hurt me? Do I not matter to you at all?”

“Of course you matter, baby, but,” Perry gasps in frustration, “we can’t fucking let them go! You know that. You’re – you’re part of this now. Don’t let him take us all down in the fall.” 

“If you don’t take me to Alex right now, I’ll start by taking her down!” Miles threatens and Taylor cries again.

“You fucking bastard, Perry!” She sobs. “I’m just a fucking lamb for you to sacrifice, aren’t I? You don’t care if he kills me or not!”

“He’s not going t– I mean, he can’t! He fucking can’t!” Perry spins around in confusion, hoping to find help from his family. “Terry!” He yelps. “Do something!”

Terry remains frozen and utterly clueless. In the end, it’s Ruth who steps forward with a somewhat bored sigh. Out of everyone in this room, it is safe to say that she looks the least worried. 

“You know what you’ve got to do, darling,” she tells Perry honestly as she gives her son a hardened look. “If you care about your girl, you do as the lad says.”

“What?” Terry demands. “No!”

“Mum,” Perry objects, “we can’t fucking let them go! This is outrageous!” 

“We won’t let them go,” Ruth says with a shake of her head, “but if you’re at all interested in keeping your girl, it’s time for us to bring the boys back together. It’s alright. They’ve both learned now. Let him see Alexander and he’ll understand never to break our trust again.”

Miles swallows a lump in his throat. His entire face feels unbearably hot. He feels like an overcooked potato that’s gone all soft and mushy in the middle.

“Is that good enough for you?” Ruth questions in her usual, unfathomably casual way. “Do you agree to this deal?” She looks Miles directly in the eyes and he cannot look away. “We bring you Alexander and you let her go. Unharmed.” 

Miles scoffs with disgust. “Can you promise me that Alex is unharmed?” He asks mockingly. “No, I thought not.” However, Ruth’s deal is something that he is simply too desperate to refuse. “If you take me to Alex AND you allow me to help him – that means supplying him with food, water, medicine, bandages, whatever he needs in order to get better – I promise I will let her go. Unharmed.”

Miles can’t tell if he’s being lucky or incredibly stupid. He can’t tell if he’s just succeeded in bringing back Alex or if he’s just voluntarily surrendered and handed over the only weapon he’s had since coming here.

Ruth maintains her calm look and without answering Miles’s doubts, she mutters:

“It’s a deal.”

 

*

 

Miles is tempted to put up another fight when Ruth guides him back to his old room and gestures for him to go back inside. Suddenly worried that she is trying to set up a trap for him, he gives her a stern look.

“What are you doing?” He asks with impatience. “Do you call this taking me to Alex? Did you even listen to what I was saying?” 

Holding Taylor even closer to him as a warning, his heart races at the thought that Ruth is going to break their deal and betray him.

“We don’t bring you to him. We bring him to you,” Ruth explains hollowly as if she simply expects Miles to let her take charge again. “Step inside your room and we will bring him in.”

“If that’s the case, I’m taking her with me!” Miles announces heatedly, dragging Taylor across the doorstep. “I told you, I’m not letting her go before I know you’ve held up your end of the deal.”

Taylor whimpers weakly though when Miles urges her to walk, she doesn’t hesitate. 

“Maybe I should just try and tackle him from behind,” Terry whispers suggestively to his brother, but Miles picks up, “he would be on the ground before he can even touch her.”

“Don’t,” Perry sighs. “If you do that, she’s going to blame me for being reckless.” 

Taylor stills in Miles’s arms and Miles gets the feeling that she’s heard them, too. For a moment, he feels truly sorry for her. Is that really the words of a man fearing for his girlfriend’s life? Perry is much too absorbed in his anger, distracting by the idea of being out-smarted and demeaned by a nobody like Miles, to truly beg for Taylor’s life. She isn’t his main concern. His own humiliation is. 

Miles turns around to face them whilst backing further into the room. Without taking his eyes off the family, he tightens his grip around Taylor’s throat and makes sure that no one is able to creep up on him from behind. 

“There,” he tells Ruth, “you have me where you want me. Now bring me Alex.”

“Terry, darling,” Ruth mutters without letting Miles out of sight, “go get your brother. You’ll give each other a hand bringing Alexander in.”

Miles holds his breath as Terry disappears quietly. Both Ruth and Perry step inside the room and close the door behind them. Whether it’s to intimidate Miles or simply keep him from hearing Terry’s handling of Alex, it feels suspicious.

“Hold out, baby, it’s going to be over very soon,” Perry comforts Taylor as he eyes her tenderly and only slightly possessively, “you are going to be okay. I am going to free you.”

“You’re not going to free me, Per,” she huffs with indignation and rejects his look, “Miles is.”

Her comment appears to stun him at first. Then he decides that her words have irked him and he snaps:

“He’s the one holding you fucking hostage!” 

“And you are not my hero!” Taylor shouts back in order to make herself clear. “So stop pretending you’re the one saving me!”

The room falls quiet. Neither Miles or Ruth have taken an interest in the lovers’ quarrel being played out in front of them. After all, they both know that this has got nothing to do with Taylor, or Perry. They’ve both been caught in the middle of something bigger, something of greater importance than their ill-fated romance. Anyone can see that the relationship between them (if you can even call it that) isn’t built to last and even Taylor appears to be realising her foolish mistake of playing with the fire that’s Perry Sharpe. She was only ever going to get burned. 

Ruth breaks the oppressive silence with a small sigh as she turns her head and acknowledges the remains of her food on the floor.

“You’ve not started a hunger strike, have you now, lad?” She muses. “You needed the plate, I’ll grant you that. There’s no point in confronting anyone if you don’t have a weapon.” She chuckles forebodingly. “But all I’m saying is, you could at least have eaten my food.”

Miles frowns cagily. 

“You pushed me to my limit, Ruth. That’s all I can say,” he mutters sombrely. “You can’t hold me responsible for… breaking down.”

“I must say… You fought hard to make me listen to you.” She laughs quietly under her breath. “If the circumstances were only slightly different, I’d be impressed, kid. For once, you’ve been fearless. That’s a good thing.”

“What are you on about?” Perry scolds his mum as he’s already incensed. “You’re acting like he deserves a fucking medal!” 

“Your girl is right,” Ruth responds nonchalantly. Though she’s glowering at Miles, she’s addressing her youngest. “The boy holding her hostage has got bigger balls than you, my dear. I’m sorry, but that’s a fact. Everyone sees it.”

Before Perry is able to recover from that insult, a knocking on the door brings everyone back to reality. Miles tenses immediately and completely misses the cries from Taylor when his hold on her becomes unbearably firm. 

“Open the door!” Miles requests urgently, knowing the brothers are back because they’ve got Alex with them. “What are you waiting for? Let them in right now!”

 

*

 

Somewhere outside of Ruth’s basement, the sun is veiled by grey, wintery clouds. A cold wind blows silently, making way for a much greater storm.

Matt is stunned to find that the lights are on in the living room as he makes it home from school early in the afternoon. Immediately realising that it’s the sound of his Mum’s voice he’s hearing, he cringes hard. She’s going to assume that he’s home early because he’s skipped his last classes when really, they were cancelled because Mr Stevenson is ill with the flu again. That poor old man has never adjusted well to the cold and wet climates of South Yorkshire. 

Matt locks the front door and attempts to tiptoe his way into the kitchen without making any noise, but his efforts are wasted. His Mum hears him like she always does.

“Matthew?” She calls, though surprisingly, she sounds almost relieved that he’s home. “Is that you, darling? Could you come in here for a sec?” 

That’s when he realises. She isn’t alone. There’s someone in there with her. That’s why the downstairs smells of coffee and that walnut cake that his parents love to impress house guests with.

“I, uh – I’ll be there in a minute!” He tells her, kicking off his shoes and putting them aside like he’s always expected to do whenever his Nan is visiting. Stopping in front of the mirror to study himself for a moment, he ruffles his hair and adjusts the collar of his shirt. Like a good boy. Scoffing at his own ridiculousness, Matt shakes his head and decides to just get it over with whoever’s in there. “Just so you know, Mum, Mr Stevenson is ill again,” Matt prepares her as he reaches for the door handle and enters the living room, “I’m not skiving off school, I swear, he’s just really old and-“ Matt stops himself when he sees Miles’s mum, Pauline, sitting in the sofa. Her pallid face and anxious expression takes him utterly by surprise and for a moment that feels like eternity, he falls painfully quiet. “Oh, uh – I’m sorry, Mrs Kane, I – I didn’t know you were here.”

Pauline merely watches him like she’s forgotten how to interact with anyone her own son’s age. Looking like she had hoped to see Miles standing in the door instead of Matt, the poor woman closes her mouth and attempts to smile at him, but the disappointment continues to give her away. She looks like she’s barely slept for the past few weeks and truly, who could blame her if she hasn’t?

“Matthew,” his mother repeats with a forced smile, hoping to ease the tension in the room, “I’m glad you’re home, love. Why don’t you have a sit? I was just telling Pauline,” at the mention of her name, Mrs Helders takes a hold of the other woman’s hand in order to show her support, “that we as a family are going to do everything we can to offer our help.”

Matt watches the two women who, before Alex and Miles disappeared, never used to socialise with one another. Penny and David, on the other hand, he was used to. His parents bloody loved the Turners. They would be visiting all the time.

“Uh, yeah, of course,” Matt stammers awkwardly as he slowly takes his seat next to Mrs Kane in the sofa. There is nowhere else for him to sit, unfortunately. “I’m really sorry about M-Miles and uh… Of course we’ll do anything to help.”

He pauses. He has no clue what else he can possibly tell this woman. What are you supposed to tell a distressed mother who doesn’t know for sure if she’s ever again going to see her son alive? You can’t tell her that everything is going to be okay, because you just can’t promise that. But then again, you don’t exactly wish to remind her what the chances are of finding someone who’s been lost for not just days, but weeks. You don’t want her to know that you, too, are scared out of your mind.

Matt looks over at his mum as if he’s pleading for her to put him out of his misery. 

“Here, darling, have a slice of cake,” Mrs Helders mutters, easing her son’s burden. “Hmm, well, as I was just saying to you, Pauline, love – my Matthew formed such a close friendship to your son. Isn’t that right?”

“Yeah,” Matt nods uncomfortably, feeling Mrs Kane’s heavy and sorrowful eyes resting on him once again, “I mean… Miles became part of our gang. For sure. We, uh… We miss him.”

Feeling self-conscious and slightly stupid, Matt watches his own hands when it begins to feel like there’s nowhere else for him to look. He has no idea why Miles’s mum is here. Maybe she’s feeling lonely at her own house. Maybe she’s here because there’s news. Maybe she senses that Matt knows something that he hasn’t even discussed with his own parents yet. Maybe he’s simply becoming paranoid. 

“My Miles used to never have any friends at school,” Pauline speaks suddenly and unfortunately, Matt is able to detect the raw emotion in her voice. He isn’t comfortable with other people’s crying, but everyone knows that it’s a million times worse to hear a parent cry. It doesn’t even matter if she’s not his parent. “He was always such a shy boy. Kind, but shy.” Pauline snivels and Matt swallows hard before he is able to look her in the eyes again. “I was so happy when he came home from school last year and told me that he had made a new friend. Alex.” She pauses again to wipe at her eyes. “I assume that’s how you all made friends with my Miles. Through Alex.”

Matt clears his throat. “Uh, yeah,” he admits quietly. “That’s right. Alex introduced him to everyone. I guess he made friends with Miles first. Because he used to live next door to you.”

“Until his parents died in that accident,” Pauline adds when Matt fails to bring up the tragedy. Matt catches his mum holding up a hand to her mouth. She’s still not over the losses and she acts shocked every time someone mentions their names. “I’m sorry, I mean… I know that Penny is still in the hospital, but…”

“She’s never coming back,” Mrs Helders finishes the sentence meekly. “It’s okay. We all know. She isn’t really with us anymore. We lost them both that day.”

Pauline gives them all a moment. Perhaps she wasn’t aware of the bond between the Helders’ and the Turners because she seems truly astonished by the disheartened atmosphere. 

“It was all so dreadful,” she then continues cautiously. “I remember feeling so devastated for their son. I thought to myself – these tragedies are not supposed to happen in a neighbourhood like this. I know we haven’t lived here for long, but – we thought this place was safe. We thought this place would be… happy. But then one tragedy replaced another.”

“You mean… your son? Miles?” Mrs Helders hints, unsure if she understands what Pauline is trying to say.

“I mean our new neighbours,” Mrs Kane corrects her. “That was the tragedy that followed after Mr Turner’s funeral. It all got so much worse when they arrived next door. The Sharpes, I believe. I try to avoid them.”

“And you are right to,” Matt says suddenly, “they are not right in the head!”

“Matthew!” His mother complains, but Pauline reacts by touching Matt’s shoulder as though she welcomes his opinion.

“You’ve noticed, too?” She offers him a brief smile before she turns serious again. “Jill, you can’t blame your boy for speaking the truth. Matthew isn’t exaggerating. My husband and I went to their house once when one of the sons – Terrence, I think – broke Miles’s window. Instead of apologising for the damage, they insulted us. The next time we went to their house…” Pauline hesitates, her eyes glazing at the memory. “It was that awful day when Miles never came home from school. The day when he went missing, too. We went to the Sharpes’ house for help. We went to all of our neighbours’ houses, but out of all of them, Ruth Sharpe was the only one who didn’t offer her help. She only sent us away. Told us to leave. Not even when Alex went missing did she seem to care.” Pauline produces a sob and wipes at both her eyes. “Miles disappeared only a week after Alex… And when we confronted her about it, she wouldn’t even listen…”

Mrs Helders seizes her hand once again as she tries to comfort her, but Matt knows that Pauline’s tears are expressing more than just fear and concern. They are mixed with anger, too, hence making it all the more impossible to find any words adequate enough.

“Pauline, love, I had no idea,” Mrs Helders fusses, though she’s merely looking to stop this woman for crying, “it’s just awful the way that she treated you. What a horrible woman. I can’t even begin to imagine what you and Peter are going through.” 

“Thanks, but I – I’m not sure that’s true,” Pauline says in between hitched breaths, “I mean… Ruth Sharpe never cared when Alex disappeared, but she never acted like he was family in the first place. You, on the other hand, Jill… I see it in your eyes. Let me tell you, one mother to another, I believe you fear for Alex like I fear for my Miles.” 

Matt feels the tears threatening to spill in his own eyes when he watches his mother and sees that she, too, is welling up.

“I – I promised David and Penny that I would take care of their boy if anything happened to him,” Mrs Helders suddenly weeps, “I – I failed them both. Alex is gone and I never looked after him like I should have.”

“What?” Matt can barely believe what he’s hearing. “Mum, no – don’t say that! This isn’t your fault.”

“Alex isn’t gone and neither is Miles,” Pauline then exclaims and grasps both of Mrs Helders’s hands. “We haven’t lost them. We will get them back. I know we will. My Miles – it isn’t like him to run away. He would never put Peter and I through that sort of pain. I believe our boys could be in trouble with someone.”

“Trouble?” Mrs Helders cries. She looks at Mrs Kane in horror and disbelief. “Have you had any other letters from Miles? Have you heard anything at all?”

“I have not. The police weren’t able to track down the origins of Miles’s letter, but Jill, listen. I don’t believe it’s a matter of where our boys are. I believe we need to ask ourselves why they left in the first place.”

“Ruth,” Matt says instantly as though he’s trying to tell the women something. “Ruth and Terry and Perry and whatever they’re called! It’s their fault!” 

“I agree with your son,” Pauline snivels. “I believe it’s them. I believe they treated Alex horribly. They must be the reason that he ran away. And since my son loves Alex so much, he went after him. Bless him. My Miles has always been so loyal, so devoted...”

Matt bites his lip, hard. It’s true that Alex was treated horribly. It’s also true that Miles has grown to love him, everyone knows that. And now he’s wondering if perhaps, he ought to tell Miles’s mum what else he knows.

“Alex showed up in class with a black eye right before he disappeared,” he bursts out before he can stop himself. “I know what Miles wrote in his letter, but it isn’t true! I don’t know why he wrote it. He and Alex would never run away because of something that’s happened at school. It was because of the way that they treated Alex at home. One of his cousins gave him that black eye, I saw it myself!” Matt doesn’t like the way that his mum is suddenly looking at him, but he doesn’t care. It’s time that they all knew the facts about Alex’s so-called guardian. “I think – I think Alex was abused at home and Miles knew it, too. Ruth made all these crazy rules to keep him in place. She wouldn’t even let him spend any time with his friends. We all… We all talked about getting him out of there.”

Mrs Helders’s mouth has fallen open in shock while Pauline manages to calm herself. It appears that Matt has confirmed her every suspicion and in an odd way, the truth can be a victory in itself.

“Matt,” Mrs Helders breathes, her voice full of impact. “I can’t bel- Why?! Why have you never told us about this? We could have called the police. We could have gotten Alex out of there before he went missing!”

“He didn’t want us to tell anyone!” Matt fends, though he knows he’s at fault. “Look, he was embarrassed! Isn’t that the same thing that happens in all cases of abuse? He didn’t want anyone to know because he was ashamed. These people messed with his mind! He thought he should protect them because they were the only family he had left.”

“You should have told me!” His mother bellows and her words come out harsh, almost making Matt regret his decision to tell them the truth. “How could you do this to me, Matthew? To Alex? I promised his parents to keep him safe! I had no idea that this was happening. I didn’t think… violence… would be involved.”

“Mum, I know! You don’t have to tell me, I feel guilty enough as it is. But I’m telling you, we all tried to convince Alex that this was wrong. He was in deep denial. I – I didn’t want to tell you against his will…”

Mrs Helders is about to say something again when Pauline stops her.

“Jill, this isn’t his fault,” she reminds her with a small sigh. “Look, I’m sure Alex is clever. I’m thinking he left the house to protect himself. Maybe he isn’t lost, maybe he’s… hiding. Miles, too.”

“If they’re hiding, it means they’re scared!” Mrs Helders argues. “I don’t understand why you’re appeased by this, Pauline. Why would they be scared to come home? Why would Alex run away instead of coming to us? He must have known that we would have taken him in and done anything to protect him. So tell me – why aren’t they home yet? Why are they still hiding? It’s getting cold out there. It’s dark, it’s wet…”

“Maybe they think they’re in trouble,” Mrs Kane reasons. “Miles, my baby boy, he can be nervous sometimes. And the police – those incompetent, overpaid slobs! – they haven’t been quick enough to start a search for them if you ask me. They let Ruth Sharpe off the hook way too easily. They barely asked her any questions.”

“Maybe it’s time that they do,” Matt suggests. He continues to feel devastated to see his mum so upset and he profoundly wishes to make things better. “You could report the abuse that they’ve put Alex through. If the police get the sense that Alex and Miles ran away as a result of domestic abuse, they’ll be on Ruth’s case immediately.” 

“It would have been helpful if we’d known from the beginning, though,” Mrs Helders maintains and Matt can’t tell if she’s trying to punish him still. “We haven’t seen Alex for weeks now. I would hate for them to think that we are making this up.”

“They are not going to think that, Mum,” Matt insists, “I’m not the only one who knows about the abuse. Jamie knows it, Nick knows it. Alex’s teachers saw him with a black eye, too.” 

“And they didn’t do anything about it?” His mum sounds furious at this stage. Perhaps Matt is only digging a grave for himself and everyone else involved. “I cannot believe this! This is outrageous!” 

“It wasn’t just the teachers. Everyone must have kept quiet. Miles kept it from me, too,” Pauline sooths her. “Don’t take it out on Matt. At least he’s coming forward now. And he’s right. I should tell the police what he’s just told me. It’s time that they hold Ruth and her family responsible for whatever they’ve done. Can you believe it? Abusing a member of your own family! They won’t be his guardians for long, I’ll see right to it.” 

After making that decision for herself, Pauline dries her eyes and acts a hell of a lot stronger than when she initially arrived to ask for Mrs Helders’ support. Apparently, Miles’s disappearance has put a strain on her marriage to Peter and it seems obvious to anyone that she’s been in desperate need to talk it out. She’s been lonely and worrying crazy, like any mother would, and perhaps, she has been suspecting that if anyone was to understand her burden of looking for her lost son, it would be the only woman alive to still consider the Turner kid one of her own. As Pauline returns home an hour later, she is convinced that her assumptions made about Jill Helders weren’t wrong. That woman has got a bleeding heart not unlike her own.

“Mum,” Matt speaks hollowly once they’re left alone with one another, “I’m really sorry. If I had thought that things would turn out this bad, I would have said something. You didn’t fail Alex, I did.”

Mrs Helders gets up from her chair and takes Matt into her arms, hugging him tightly until he is either too embarrassed or too sore to put up with it.

“There is only one person who’s failed Alex and when we find him and Miles, because I know we will, I am going to make sure that he never has to go back to living with that crazy bitch.”

“Shit,” Matt utters, feeling gobsmacked, “Mum, I’ve never heard you use that word before.”

“I have never been this angry before,” Jill admits as she runs a hand through her son’s hair. “To begin with, I thought the saddest thing about Alex and Miles’s disappearance was the fact that only Miles had parents to worry sick about him, to want him back home. I thought that Alex needed his parents alive more than ever, but now I realise – he does have a family and he does have a home to return to. Not at Park Lane, but here.”

“Wait, what are you saying? Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

“When the police find him, Matthew, Alex will be staying with us. Permanently. Your father and I will adopt him this time, I don’t care what it takes. There’s no way that David and Penny’s only son belongs to a woman who didn’t even put up a poster with his face on it. No way.”

 

* 

 

When Terry and Harry enter Miles’s room, they aren’t carrying Alex over the threshold like even the most pitiless of arseholes in the world would have been willing themselves to do. Rather, they are dragging his lifeless body across the floor, holding onto only an arm each and acting like they’re trying to touch as little of him as possible. Alex’s body is covered in blood and in dirt and it’s becoming rather obvious that the two brothers are busier keeping their shirts clean than they are protecting Alex’s half-naked body from the rough surfaces beneath their feet. Alex is only wearing the shorts that he managed to put on before he and Miles were caught together in their room a week ago. When Terry and his brother drop him down on the floor in front of Miles, he remains utterly still. He is deeply unconscious and he appears to have been so for a while now. If Miles didn’t know any better, he would have assumed him to be dead.

Miles lets out a gasp as soon as Alex’s head evens with the ground. Already sickened by what he sees, he loosens his hold on Taylor and falls almost completely limp. When he later on remembers his reaction, he is certain that Taylor could have wrestled her way out of his arms easily. However, she doesn’t even try. For some reason, she stays by his side like a willing captive. 

He hears laughter but he can’t take his eyes off of Alex. This is as grim as anything he can possibly imagine. This is not the look of someone still alive. Alex is much too pale, battered and thin to look human. His body is unrecognisable. Alien to Miles. Soulless. 

“Is that it?” Ruth speaks suddenly, forcing Miles out of his thoughts. “I expected something more from you, lad. I expected… shouting. A long conversation. More bargaining.”

But Miles isn’t able to shout. Blinking once, fat tears spill fast across his cheeks. He can no longer see the people standing before him. His blurry vision turns them all into dark and twisted silhouettes of demons, or devils, standing ten times as tall as himself. He realises he has lost. No matter what happens next, he’s already lost the battle along with all other battles he could possibly be faced with if not in this universe, then in a higher place that goes beyond his understanding. How could he have thought himself capable of defeating what isn’t even equal to him, what isn’t even human? He has underestimated the evil, the crushing powers that are now rooted into this very house, in every wall, in every floorboard. There is no escaping it. The darkness, the smothering thickness, has slowly cornered him and it is now entering his body and mind through every pore until it is suffocating him from inside, filling up his lungs, his heart, his eyes. Blackness is all he sees. It is whispering mocking words and reminding him of his weakness. Miles isn’t even half the man he once thought he was. He is worthless. Hollow. There is nothing left inside of him that could possibly keep on fighting. The darkness wants him to surrender. It wants another victim to pick on. It wants to drive him barking mad…

Taylor seems to be nudging him carefully with her foot in a desperate attempt to get him to wake up. Miles’s head snaps up and he’s suddenly breathing noisily, filling his lungs to the brim until it hurts and all the colours fade to red. He’s clutching her limbs anew, threatening to crush her bones before he is forced to turn her over.

“Fucking hell,” Harry chuckles, “he’s mental. Look at him. He’s finally lost the plot.”

“Alright, you nut case!” Perry sulks. “You have your slut back. Let my girlfriend go.”

But Miles can’t. Even when his arms begin to shake with exhaustion does he not release her. 

“You promised him supplies,” Taylor speaks unexpectedly, taking everyone by surprise. “That was part of the deal. Food, water, bandages – whatever he listed. You should give it to him.”

Miles clenches around the shard in his hand until his palm begins to bleed. Is Taylor actually trying to stick up for him? And should he even care if that’s the case? Surely, he doesn’t desire her pity. It’s too fucking late for that.

“You’re fucking joking,” Perry cries. “Whose fucking side are you on?!”

“Stop being such a jerk,” Taylor bites back, “he’s not letting me go until you give him everything you promised you would. I’m just trying to keep things fair.”

“Fair? FAIR?” Perry spits. “I had to watch that – that NONCE – grope you! How the fuck is that fair?!”

“Grope me?” Taylor huffs. “What, even now you’re jealous? You don’t want other men to touch me, is that it? I’m a fucking hostage, you idiot! Did you think I volunteered for this shit? Did you think this was foreplay for me?”

“Enough!” Perry barks, slapping his own forehead. “I can’t take this shit anymore! I don’t think you want him to let you go. I think you’ve become his fucking sympathiser! You were supposed to be on my side, Taylor! MY SIDE!” 

“Open your eyes!” She shrieks, tussling against Miles’s arm. “You think everyone’s out to fucking get you! You’re so god damn paranoid, do you know that?” 

“No – no! You’ve lied to me! I know you have. I should have known that you would go soft on him. I should have known that you would feel sorry for him. I thought you were here for me, you bitch! But you’re only here for him, aren’t you?” 

He’s looking down at Alex’s body for a brief moment and it’s enough to expose every ounce of his jealousy. Turning away from the scene, Perry heads for the door, carrying all of his rage in his hands as he threatens to punch the next thing that gets in his way.

“Where are you going?!” Taylor cries. “Perry! Perry, wait!”

“Tell her I’m leaving her to fucking rot in here!” He shouts when Harry runs after him. “Tell her I’m not letting her leave until she fucking proves it to me who she’s loyal to!” 

“No!” Taylor begs, her voice suddenly thin and fragile. “No, wait! You can’t fucking do this to me! PERRY!”

Taylor gasps as she’s stood facing Ruth and Terry on her own. Even when she had been under the guarantee of Perry’s protection had she feared what these lunatics would be capable of doing. From the very beginning, she had promised herself never to get on their bad side. She knew how they treated even their closest friends with coldness, but it was nothing compared to the horrors that they would put their enemies through.

“Ruth,” she whispers pleadingly, but there is no compassion to be found in the eyes of the small and vicious woman standing by the door, “Ruth, please… H-he’s got it all wrong.”

Ruth laughs quietly and effortlessly. 

“I always knew you weren’t here because you loved my son,” she grins, though this is tragically un-funny, “you thought you had us all persuaded, but Perry is the only fool here. You best pray that you can fool him twice, love.”

Silently, Terry begins to collect the remains of Miles’s broken plate from the floor. They wouldn’t want to make the same mistake twice and allow him any more advantages. 

“You can let go of her throat now, boy,” Ruth says as she’s walking up to Miles peacefully. “I know you’re not going to kill her.” She takes a look at the shard in his hand. Miles can’t remember when he stopped pressing it against Taylor’s skin. “Hand it over,” she orders him. “We’ll bring you the supplies you need soon.”

Miles untangles himself from Taylor and opens his palm to surrender his weapon.

“No!” Taylor hisses, looking even paler than before. “Don’t give it to her! Don’t!”

Ruth seizes the shard from out of Miles’s hands and Miles doesn’t stop her. He no longer cares about putting up a defence. It appears that Taylor has become useless to him, after all.

“I will be back soon,” Ruth promises. “You did well today, lad. I just thought you should know that.”

When the door closes on them, Taylor backs away from Miles and presses herself up against the wall, making herself as small as possible. She’s never before been trapped or locked up anywhere and already, she can feel the walls closing in on her. For a moment she watches the flickering lightbulb in the ceiling as it sways back and forth and slowly, her windpipe tightens, making her believe that she can no longer breathe.

 

*

 

Ruth is going through the medicine cabinet in her bathroom when Terry opens the door and steps inside. 

“Mum? The soup is ready,” he announces dutifully, though with a frown. “I left it in the kitchen.”

“Thank you, my darling,” she replies without looking at him, “We will bring down a tray for them soon. I just need to find a few more things that the boy is going to need. We’re out of painkillers, but I bought some antiseptic wipes not long ago. He will appreciate that.”

Terry crosses his arms over his chest, feeling miffed.

“With all due respect,” he sighs, “why do we bother? Whatever leverage he had earlier, he’s lost it now. We don’t need to give into his demands. He’s no longer posing any threats, I mean, how could he?” 

“Oh please,” Ruth snorts with amusement, “like there was any chance he was ever going to stab the girl in the throat. You saw how frightened he was. His hands were shaking the whole time. I meant what I said. He only had Perry fooled.”

“He fooled me, too, you know! I mean, at least for a moment. If you knew he was bluffing, then why did you give him what he asked for?” Terry bites his lip with resentment, though he doesn’t want his mother to see his overreaction. He doesn’t fully understand his sudden anger. He feels cheated. Deceived. He now realises how much he despises the idea of being out-smarted and lied to. “You were the one who said not to go soft on Alexander. We should have kept going instead of bringing them back together. We didn’t punish them nearly as thoroughly as I thought we would.”

Ruth turns her head in mild astonishment.

“You’re enraged,” she remarks whilst masking her own feelings. “You seem… offended.”

“I’m angry that we let the little maggot believe that he brought us down to our knees,” Terry hisses through clenched teeth, “he thinks he’s overpowered us, that he’s won a battle. He’s going to be all cocky from now on – because we gave into him!” 

“Oh, Terrence, dear,” Ruth chuckles lightly. It’s rare that her voice gives her away like that. “I know you. Ever since you were a toddler, I’ve known that you hate the idea of losing face. Don’t worry. You think we’ve humiliated ourselves, but we haven’t. Did you see the look on the lad’s face when we returned Alexander to him? That wasn’t the look of victory if you ask me. I believe he’s more scared now than ever.”

“Still,” Terry huffs, “he would have been even more scared if we had kept them apart.”

“Don’t mope, love. There’s something about torture you don’t understand.”

“Oh yeah? What’s that?”

“What you boys did to your cousin, that was the best job you’ve ever done. You tore him down piece by piece until he had no willpower left in him. No spark. However, though his torture was successful, this isn’t about repeating the same process all over again.” Ruth shakes her head. “No. Once is enough to begin with. It takes planning. You will eventually need new ideas. You can’t repeat what you’ve already done to him, otherwise he will see it coming. You’ve introduced him to pain and now, the next level of his torture won’t be established through the marks on his body. It will all be played out through the fear that you’ve planted in him. At the moment, Alexander is more traumatised by the fear of having to go through that again than the pain itself. You do your job right, you only have to do it once. You’ve planted your seed and you may continue to reap for as long as you like.”

Ruth digs out some bandages after which she closes the cabinet. When she turns around to smile at her eldest, Terry is left feeling confused.

“So you’re saying it’s better to leave him in fear?” He estimates. “Cause I was thinking it would be more efficient to just beat the shit out of him again. That ought to keep him in place.”

“What I meant was,” Ruth corrects him, “don’t let him predict your next move. Give him some time to speculate. That will drive him over the edge. Then, when you’ve planned a new punishment, you take him by surprise.”

“That still doesn’t answer my question,” Terry persists. “Why are we helping them to the supplies they need? I mean, bandages? Come on, Mum! You should at least make them beg for it.”

“No, no, dear,” she shushes him as she places a cold hand against her favourite son’s cheek, “we don’t have to make them beg every time. Can’t you see? We’ve already beaten them. By giving them a moment to recover, we’re only making it all the more fun for ourselves next time we crush them.”

Smiling confidently as she leaves the room to prepare the supplies for Miles, Ruth rejoices at the promise that she’ll stay in full power of not only the unfortunate teenagers imprisoned in her basement, but of her sons, too, who now face no other choice but to rely on her.

 

*

 

Miles is hunched over Alex’s body when he gently turns him over by the shoulder and guides him unto his side. Alex’s skin is freezing cold to the touch and covered in dust from the floor that must have glued with the dried blood smeared on his limbs. Miles takes one look at him only before he falls apart. Pressing his face down to bury into Alex’s neck, Miles starts to sob in despair. 

“I’m sorry,” he blabbers with a gasp. The graphic images of Alex’s maltreatment has winded him and consequently, the ache in his chest intensifies with every hitched breath. “I’m sorry, I – I couldn’t stop it. I c-couldn’t get to you in time…”

Alex looks so small, so shattered underneath him. Ashen skin reveals new bruises and fresh marks that have once again been put there by wrathful fists, by open palms, by fingernails, even, and the blotches are marring all areas of Alex’s body, starting with his face and going all the way down to his legs. A particularly vicious discolouration by his jaw exposes purple prints from fingers that must have held on to him with all might, crushing against his skin while more fingers are visible at the base of his throat. However, Miles is well aware that they have done more than just beat him. Not only are there cuts down his arms, down his abdomen, that resemble shallow stab wounds. They have been carving into his chest as though trying to engrave his skin like a fucking piece of jewellery. Miles cries out in horror when he traces down all the dried blood that must have spilled from their attempt to put their signature on him with a fucking blade. 

They haven’t just cut him open like a piece of meat in a butcher’s shop. They’ve stitched him back together using a thread and needle, like his body has been nothing but a toy, a ragged doll for them to work on for their own amusement. 

“What the fuck happened?!” Miles weeps in a phlegm-filled voice and wipes at his nose using his sleeve. “What the fuck did they do to him?” Perhaps she isn’t aware that he’s talking to her and not addressing a series of rhetorical questions, but when Taylor fails to make a sound, Miles tears himself away from Alex to give her a poisonous look. “Answer me!” He spits. Looking into her rounded blue eyes only aggravates him further. “You were there! You fucking saw what happened! I know you did, so TELL ME!”

Taylor’s mouth opens and closes a couple of times, but she seems completely incapable of speaking. She’s shaking visibly, either out of fear or because she’s inflicted by the cold. She’s been trying to look away from Alex’s abused body in order to supress the queasiness that makes her gag every time she sees the blood and remembers last night’s brutality. However, Miles isn’t letting her off the hook so easily. 

“Don’t you dare look away!” He shouts and when she forces herself to meet his gaze, she breaks down crying instantly.

“What do you want me to say, Miles? What do you think happened?” She bawls, smearing the mascara all over her cheeks as she touches her tear-filled eyes. “They tortured him! They…” Her voice breaks and she takes in a deep breath. “They fucking tortured him… They w-were relentless. Merciless…” Taylor chokes on her own words and clutches her chest as though she’s in pain. “Oh God,” she moans, “I – I have never seen anything so – so awful…”

“Oh, don’t you fucking dare!” Miles scoffs with disgust. “Don’t you fucking dare feel sorry for yourself.”

“I’m not – feeling – sorry – for – myself!” She sobs pathetically and covers both eyes with her hands. “You think – I’m such a fucking – ice queen – you don’t think – I can cry – for anyone – but myself…”

She wails loudly and Miles is having none of it.

“Do you really think you’re fooling anyone?” He thunders. “I warned you this would happen. You could have stopped it. You could have-“ When Miles’s words are drowned and stifled by Taylor’s crying, he raises his voice further: “SHUT THE FUCK UP FOR A MOMENT, WILL YOU?”

She gasps and pulls a wounded face, though she’s hard to feel sorry for. 

“I KNOW WHAT YOU’RE TRYING TO DO!” Miles bellows. “YOU’RE TRYING TO GET MY SYMPATHY! YOU’RE TRYING TO GET ME TO FUCKING FORGIVE YOU, BUT GUESS WHAT! IT AIN’T GONNA HAPPEN!”

“Miles,” she pants, smearing the mascara across her face again, “please, don’t… Don’t do this to me… I feel bad enough as it is. I… I hate myself for being here. I…”

“WELL YOU FUCKING SHOULD!” Miles’s bottom lip is quivering, but the resentment, the burning flame inside him, keeps him going. “But guess what, Taylor, I don’t give a shit about your feelings. Believe it or not, this isn’t about you, you self-absorbed bitch!” 

“How dare you!” She whimpers, slamming both palms against the floor from where she’s sat with her back against the wall. “I’ve loved Alex since the day I met him! Don’t you think it’s killing me to see him like this?”

“No! I really don’t!” Miles bites at her. “If you really loved him, you wouldn’t have put him here. If you really loved him, you wouldn’t have…”

He pauses. She’s not listening to a word he’s saying as she’s returned to snivelling pathetically with her hands pressed against her ears. 

“I can’t get the images out of my head,” she whines in a voice that is loaded with self-pity. “I’m not used to blood, or violence… Oh God, why am I here? Perry was fucking right, I AM involved now! My name’s going to be everywhere… In the papers… In the police report…”

She is suddenly cut off by crushing, deafening SMACK to her face that sends her crashing down against the floor until she’s only able to support herself on one elbow. The other hand clutches instinctively at her assaulted cheek as her mouth falls open in shock. Miles is now standing before her, indignant and unforgiving as ever.

“SNAP OUT OF IT!” He commands her bitterly, feeling no remorse whatsoever for striking her like that. “Like I said – this isn’t about you!” 

Taylor huffs a couple of times, looking like she can barely believe what’s happened. 

“You slapped me!” She complains, though the self-pitying look is slowly vanishing from her face.

“You were being selfish,” Miles tells her unapologetically, “you think I care for your tears? Your fears? Your regrets?” Miles suddenly spits on the floor right next to her, like he’s seen Alex’s cousins doing it. “The hell I don’t! I only care about one thing and that’s Alex, do you hear me? I will do everything in my power to make him better, even if it means talking to you. So pull yourself together and answer my questions, otherwise you’re USELESS to me!” 

Miles returns to Alex’s frame on the floor and Taylor sits herself upright, though with difficulty. 

“You… You really love him. Don’t you?” Her voice is nothing but a humble whisper. She watches as Miles crouches down next to the wounded boy by his side, gathering all his thoughts, all his attention on him and nothing else. Though she doesn’t want to, she sees the dedication. The devotion. 

“Please,” Miles snorts, looking away from her, “you don’t even know what love is. You pretend you do, but you don’t.”

Taylor catches herself wanting to protest to this statement, but thankfully, she silences herself.

“Do you think he’ll ever forgive me for what happened?” She asks instead, blinking away fresh tears from her eyes. “Alex, I mean…”

“That depends,” Miles sighs tiredly, wrapping an arm around Alex’s form, “what the fuck happened? I mean, what the fuck did they put him through? Did you participate?” 

“No!” She speaks instantly and importantly. “No – I did not. You must believe me. I would never… I threatened to do it, I know that, but… I could never… Not to Alex.”

“But you watched,” Miles persists, “maybe you even laughed with them. I know for sure that you didn’t tell them to stop. Otherwise Perry would have locked you in here a lot sooner.”

Taylor maintains her gaze, though Miles has got his back turned on her, ignoring her mournful eyes.

“I – I didn’t think they would actually go this far,” she mouths, but Miles isn’t interested in her making any excuses for herself. “Fine,” she surrenders, biting her lip at the sharp pain throbbing in her cheek. “I’ll tell you exactly what they did to him, though I have a feeling you know already.” She gets up from the floor and moves over to take a look at Alex’s body. “You’ve seen his marks,” she elaborates, “you can tell it’s bad, can’t you?”

“Get away from him!” Miles snaps suddenly, surprising even himself as he hovers over Alex as though protecting him from her presence. “Let him be!”

“I’m not going to touch him,” she promises him calmly, though it’s hard to ignore the fact that Miles’s distrust rings out like another slap to her face. “I’m only going to show you.”

“Show me?” Miles repeats nervously.

“Yes,” she offers patiently. “On his body…”

“Oh God,” Miles sobs as his stomach sinks and his entire body seems to be weighing him down, urging him to collapse against Alex, “Oh hell…”

He realises he’s not ready for this.

“They kept him tied to a chair for couple of days,” Taylor begins. Her voice isn’t filled with triumph this time. It’s woeful. Anguished. “To begin with they were trying to exhaust him, I think. Trying to keep him from sleeping, or resting his body. If he started to rest his eyes or even drift off for a second, they would kick his chair until the sensation of falling kept him alert and awake.” She takes in a deep breath, readying herself for more. “To begin with he didn’t beg, didn’t fight back. He didn’t even talk. He knew that they would try and use his every word against him. However, when he did talk, which again was very little, he would only be asking about you.”

Miles holds his breath when he thinks he’s going to burst inside. Forcing himself to swallow every urge to cry, or to yell, he simply utters:

“He was worried about me? About ME?”

Taylor shrugs. “He heard you calling from the other side of the wall,” she confesses. “It sounded like you were going crazy on your own. It… scared him, I guess.”

“He could hear me,” Miles gasps slightly, furrowing his brow. “This whole time, he could hear me. Why… why didn’t he respond?”

“Some days he was gagged,” Taylor tells him truthfully. “And when he wasn’t gagged, I suppose they… Perry and his brothers… they were there to shut him up. Threaten him into silence. You have to understand, they were only waiting for an excuse to go ballistic on him. Throw the first punch. If he started making any noise, they were ready to punch the air out of his lungs. Or alternatively,” she muses, "if he did call for you, I’m thinking it would have only made you more worried. And he didn’t want that. He didn’t want to reveal his fear to you, Miles.”

Miles swallows hard. 

“A-and last night?” He asks fearfully. “When they f-finally started to attack him… How did it start? What provoked them?”

“Nothing provoked them. They just decided that they had waited long enough. They were… eager… to get started.” She closes her eyes for a moment as though plagued by the mental images in her head. “I mean, they had already punched him quite a few times. Slapped him. Kicked him. Thrown him down to the floor. They had hurt him already, but they saved the ‘grand finale’ ‘till last. And last night, they…” She pauses again. “They tied him up using rope. Let him hang by the hands from a hook in the ceiling.”

“Like they did when he was whipped…” Miles remarks darkly.

“He had no way of defending himself,” she continues, supressing her tears once again. “He was so vulnerable. So tired. He was freezing cold from not wearing anything but those shorts for so long. He hadn’t been given any clothes, or blankets, and he’d barely had any food or water. And still, he wasn’t objecting. He wasn’t pleading. He remained so calm, I almost couldn’t believe it…”

“Did you talk to him?” Miles asks suddenly as he imagines Alex’s horror to see her walk in the room as a spectator. “He must have seen you there. He must have felt just as confused as I was…”

“He saw me, but he ignored me. He wouldn’t look at me, wouldn’t talk to me.” Taylor wraps her arms around herself ruefully. “When he pretended not to know me, I froze. I didn’t know what to say either, so I kept quiet. I didn’t address him, not even once. However, whenever Perry wanted me to laugh, I laughed. I smiled at his insults, even when I felt torn inside.”

“Once again,” Miles reminds her cruelly, “I don’t give a shit about your emotions in this scenario.” 

“Right. Sorry.” Her cheeks grow red for a moment, but she accepts Miles’s dismissal. “I guess I was just trying to let you know that… I was having second thoughts right from the beginning. I thought they were merely trying to scare him, but-“

“NO!” Miles cuts her off. “Don’t you dare sell me any lies like that! I told you exactly what was going to happen when Ruth brought me upstairs and we argued in her living room. I fucking warned you, don’t you dare pretend that I didn’t! You knew exactly what they were going to do to him, we both did. And it’s not that you didn’t have the courage to speak up against Perry. You were still mad at Alex for choosing me. You still hadn’t forgiven him, so you chose to let them hurt him. You chose it, Taylor, YOU fucking CHOSE it! I’m not letting you run away from what is genuinely YOUR fault!”

Once again, Taylor bites the bullet and doesn’t argue with him. Her face is sullen, though also slightly blank.

“Fine,” she whispers, “I chose not to stop them. But listen – I regretted it immediately. I swear, I did. I realised how wrong I was as soon as I saw him tied to that chair. I didn’t take any pleasure in what I saw, Miles, you have to believe me…”

“You’re wasting your time, and mine,” Miles hisses with hostility. “Get to the point! What happened after they tied him to the ceiling? Tell me everything!” 

“They…” Taylor exhales with difficulty. “They punched him some more. Clawed at him, scratched him all bloody. They even tried to strangle him a couple of times, though they stopped whenever he started to lose consciousness. They wanted him to be awake for the whole thing. Then they took out their tools.”

“Their tools?”

“Their… I don’t know, their instruments! Their equipment, whatever you want to call it.”

“What did they use on him?” Miles questions anxiously. “A knife?”

“Yes, but…” She lets out a small whimper. “But the first thing they did was to prepare an iron.”

“An IRON?!”

“They made sure it was red-hot. Then they…” She inhales sharply. “They pressed it against his ribs. That was when he started screaming for the first time.”

Miles feels suddenly nailed to the floor. Unable to move. He remembers those terrible, gut-wrenching screams that had torn him away from his own thoughts so abruptly, so appallingly. Those screams had been filled with both panic and pain and now it is hideously clear why. 

“They… burned him…” Miles is in shock. Immediately, he rearranges himself besides Alex as he searches frantically for the wound that ought to stand out rather eye-catchingly. However, Alex’s entire torso is discoloured by dark, starkened blood, which explains why Miles failed to notice the wound in the first place.

“They kept the iron on him for what seemed like forever,” Taylor sniffs. “They didn’t just want it to leave a mark on him. They wanted the pain to drive him out of his mind. They wanted him to break down and finally plead for mercy. Which he did. Again and again.”

Miles shudders involuntarily. Keeping his eyes on Alex’s torso, he now sees that wide, pointy, iron-shaped shadow that has painted Alex’s flank an even darker shade of red. He now realises that the burned skin in swollen and not smooth. With the blood and dirt clinging to the open wound like a paste, Miles realises with devastation that this area is going to be excruciatingly difficult to cleanse. It’s threatening to get infected if not sterilised soon and yet, the skin is so damaged and delicate that he would rather not touch it. 

“His skin…” Miles whines with a panicked breath. “I – I can’t believe it… Look at it!”

“I – I watched it happen,” Taylor laments, averting her eyes, “trust me, I’m never going to forget what it looks like.”

Miles is too upset to get angered with her moaning. Suddenly, he is grateful that Alex is unconscious and insentient. It means that, for the time being, he is pain-free. If only he could stop him from feeling a thing when he woke up, too… 

“How long did they burn him for?” He questions apprehensively, uncertain why he even wants to know. 

“It was probably less than thirty seconds, but…” She shakes her head lightly. “Like I said, it felt like forever. I remember feeling relieved when… When they removed the iron and it didn’t stick to his skin. I had worried that his skin would have come off…” For a moment, she looks like she is going to be sick. She swallows uneasily. “But the iron came off clean. Or, almost clean. There was a bit of blood on it, I think. I tried not to look.”

“How noble of you!” Miles scoffs. “I thought you said you laughed with them. Didn’t you laugh while they burned him? While he screamed?” 

She continues to avoid his eyes. “I… I don’t remember…”

“Bullshit.”

“No, really. I think I was too staggered by his cries. I only managed to laugh afterwards. Because I had to.”

“You didn’t have to, you chose to. We’ve been over this.”

“Fine.” She sulks for a moment. “Believe whatever you want to believe.”

Miles feels himself trembling with exasperation, but he disregards her comment. 

“When did they start to use their knife on him?” He questions instead, his heart hammering with dread.

“Almost immediately after,” she retorts. “They didn’t give him a moment’s peace. They were on him like vultures the entire time, letting one scream replace the next. If he wasn’t crying with pain, or if he took just one moment to breathe, they would do something even worse to get the reaction they wanted.” 

“Like what?” Miles frowns.

“Like… this.” Taylor squats down next to him on the floor and points to Alex’s upper arm, careful not to touch him. “Look. Harry stabbed him right here when he thought he was too quiet. The knife didn’t go all the way through his arm, but it was enough to make him scream again.”

Miles falls completely pale and he feels like he can hardly breathe.

“Did they stab him anywhere else?”

“In his shoulder, I think.” She studies Alex closely, searching with her fingers until Miles gives her a warning look. “Yeah, right here. I see it now.” She points Miles to the wound. “It was only a small knife, thankfully, but still. I can’t tell how deep it went.”

Instinctively, Miles runs a hand through Alex’s unwashed hair, petting him.

“I’m going to kill them,” he groans solemnly. “I don’t know how, but I will.”

She watches him in concern without challenging this claim. She has no interest in defending the brothers, but at the same time, she hopes that it’s his anger talking and that he isn’t serious. She feels like Miles would die trying, which obviously, wouldn’t do them any good. At the same time, she is afraid to ask whether or not she would be included in his threat.

“I think these are the only times they stabbed him,” she goes on reluctantly, “but they’ve cut him quite a bit. Down his arms, his legs… On his chest.”

“I see that!” Miles snaps suddenly, cutting her off. “I fucking see the cuts. They’re – they’re everywhere!”

“Yeah…” She doesn’t know what else to say. She catches him looking at the stitched-up cut that’s been carved into Alex’s chest. 

“Would you mind explaining to me what the fuck this is about?” Miles fumes, blinking away his tears. The slicing looks like a large ‘H’ that’s been cut into Alex’s chest, in between both nipples. The cuts are deep and they must have been dragged the blade harshly across his skin, making the blood spatter. What Miles doesn’t understand is the lettering. The one initial which seems to stand alone. “Were they… were they trying to spell something on his skin?”

Taylor presses her lips together with discomfort, stalling. Somehow, she senses that Miles already knows, and yet, he wants her to say it out loud.

“Whore,” she whispers with great shame, feeling her cheeks go red again. “They meant to write the full word. They meant to brand him as a… whore.” When Miles continues to look confused and unpersuaded, she adds: “Terry did it. He – he isn’t a good speller. Never did that well in school, I think. When he realised that he couldn’t spell the word right, he gave it up. That’s why they only did one letter. The ‘H’.”

Miles raises an eyebrow. 

“You know, it’s funny,” he says as scornfully as he can, “if Terry has ever used one word to describe Alex, it hasn’t been ‘whore.’ The brothers have almost never called him that. Faggot? Yes, only all the time. But whore? No. That word sounds more like it came from you, Taylor.” He looks at her sternly, though he doesn’t have the strength to fight with her again. “I believe you picked that word. After all, you are the one who considered Alex a whore for sleeping with me instead of you.” 

She hangs her head, resembling a disciplined child who finds her scolding unfair and uncalled for.

“I didn’t hold the knife,” she maintains without apologising. “I didn’t touch him. Not even once.”

Miles huffs mockingly.

“Whatever,” he grunts. “Answer me this instead. Why did they stitch it up? There’s a fucking thread sticking out of him! Don’t tell me they wanted to close his wound up out of fucking consideration!” 

“No,” she agrees, “on the contrary, Miles. It was another way to torture him, wasn’t it? It was just another excuse for them to pierce him with a needle over and over again, and to sow him back together while he was still awake to feel everything.”

Cringing, Miles pinches at the thread keeping Alex’s skin together. They’ve done an intentionally horrible job with the stitches, making them as uneven in size and proportion as possible. He imagines the scarring that this is going to leave Alex with. They may not even have used a clean needle on him. Perhaps, the cuts are already infected. Diseased. 

“When did he lose consciousness?” He finally probes. He’s hoping there will be no more descriptions. He’s already heard a lot more than he can even begin to process. “I don’t know how long it took for them to stitch him back up, but I heard him crying. He kept screaming for hours. He kept screaming through the majority of the night. They must have done more to him. I’m sure it doesn’t end here.”

“It doesn’t.”

Before Taylor is able to elaborate, the door is unlocked so rapidly, it’s causing them both to jump unexpectedly. Then Terry shows his bitter face as he enters the room in order to hand over Ruth’s tray packed with food and supplies, all of which Miles had nearly forgotten about. Miles reaches out his hand to accept what is given to him and Terry doesn’t utter a single word. When he glances over at Taylor and notices how closely she’s sat next to Alex’s body, he merely grimaces with disgruntlement.

When Terry locks up after himself, Miles takes a look at the tray. This time, their food has been served into colourful plastic bowls designed for children, impossible to break.

 

*

 

Miles is rummaging through the bandages and medicines, his eyes scanning over every item before he fixes on the soup and the water bottles before him.

“I – I have to make sure he eats and drinks!” He exclaims with haste, placing the tray down on the floor by Alex’s side. “Is it safe to let someone drink when they’re unconscious?” 

Taylor is taken aback by his question and struggles to answer.

“Uhm… No?” She estimates. “I – I think you should wait until he wakes up. There could be a… choking hazard.”

“Right.” Miles nods to himself as though this was his thoughts exactly. Then he suddenly looks over at Taylor and bursts out: “You can’t have any of it!” When she gives him an odd look, he continues: “You have only been here for what, an hour? You haven’t starved like we have! You don’t need any of it.”

“Miles, calm down,” she hisses with a hint of annoyance, or perhaps embarrassment, “I wasn’t going to ask for it.”

Acting like he doesn’t believe her, Miles moves the tray further away from her.

“It’s for Alex,” he repeats seriously, looking her in the eyes, “all of it. Promise me you won’t take it from him.” 

“Fucking hell!” She complains with indignation. “I know you don’t trust me, but I’m not a fucking food-thief! Besides, why would I want it? It’s just a bloody bowl of soup. I’m not going to be in here for long. Perry’s going to come back for me and let me out.”

Miles snorts at that.

“He didn’t say anything about coming back for you,” he remarks cruelly.

Taylor’s eyes widen with bewilderment.

“He wouldn’t leave me in here, I know that.” At the sound of her own doubtful voice, she becomes even more irritated. “Don’t give me that look!” She snaps. “Perry, he… He loves me. He’ll forgive me.”

“I don’t care,” Miles rejects her. “He can leave you in here for a day or for a month – it doesn’t make any difference to me. I just don’t want to share our food with you. I need it to keep Alex alive.”

He returns to fussing over Alex’s still frame, though he can still feel Taylor’s eyes on him.

“Miles,” she utters, but he pretends not to have heard her.

He runs a finger down Alex’s cheek and bends down to press a chaste kiss against a terribly cold forehead. Acting as though their time in separation has nearly brought him to forget what the other’s face looks like, Miles takes in every precious feature, every little detail that has his heart beating urgently. Alex looks almost peaceful, though his last moments awake were anything but. 

“Miles!” Taylor interferes impatiently, feeling strangely dismayed as she is forced to witness Miles’s displays of affection. “Stop ignoring me, will you?”

“What?” He finally groans, unwilling to tear himself away from Alex. “What were you going to say?”

“You asked me to tell you what else happened to him,” she reminds him jadedly. “Unless you’ve decided you don’t want to know?”

He then stills himself.

“No, you’re right. You have to tell me,” Miles whispers. “Even if I don’t want to hear it, I have to know what made him… pass out.”

His guts are churning with dread and anticipation and already does he know that this isn’t going to be good. When he turns around to look at her, Taylor’s expression is grave and shameful. When she takes in a deep breath, it becomes clear to him that she’s readying herself for something uncomfortable. 

“Just… Just promise me you won’t blame this on me,” she begs pathetically. She’s expecting Miles to lose it. She’s expecting him to hate her even more than he already does. “I swear, I had nothing to do with this. None of it was my idea. I’m not a psycho. I never wished for any of this to happen.”

Miles’s mouth feels suddenly dry, making it nearly impossible for him to swallow.

“Is it that bad?” He mouths fretfully. With a heavy heart, he’s already preparing himself for the worst thing imaginable, even though he doesn’t know what that would entail.

“Huh?” She makes a mystified sound.

“I’m asking you – is it that bad?” Miles repeats resentfully. “Since you’re practically already begging me not to take my anger out on you.”

She wants to deny his claim, but she can’t.

“It is bad,” she confesses in an anxious voice. “All I’m trying to do is remind you that I didn’t want this to happen. I already hate myself for what Alex had to suffer. If we had only remained friends after he started hanging out with you, this would never have happened… I should have forgiven him when I realised he didn’t love me back. I should have stopped obsessing over him… I just couldn’t let him go.” 

“Cut the crap, will you?” Miles snarls. “If you think admitting your mistakes to me will make me forgive you any quicker, you’re morbidly wrong! Stop stalling, Taylor, and spit it out already! Are you worried I’m going to slap you again? Is that it? You’re about to tell me something horrible and now you’re scared that I will punish you with violence?” Miles growls with disgust. “I’m not like them! And I’m not like you either – I don’t take my sorrows out on others!” 

“I wasn’t trying to imply that you…” Her voice is quivering slightly. Wrapping her arms around herself one more time, she pauses. “Sorry.”

“Just – just tell me!” He cries. “I promise I won’t fucking punch you, even if you deserve it!”

She’s once again adopting a look of trauma and nausea as she goes completely pale. It appears that the memory of last night continues to haunt her guilty conscience. Whether this is one of her tactics to manipulate Miles into going easy on her, he can’t tell. All he knows is that she looks truly shaken, like she had never expected violence to be so grim and the blood of a former friend to taste so bitter.

“Have a look at his back,” she eventually sighs, closing her eyes sadly. “The top of his neck, to be exact.”

Miles moves behind Alex in order to follow her instructions. To begin with, all he sees are the familiar red lashes that stems from his own whipping of him. However, there are fresh scratch marks, too. Beaten, swollen skin. He isn’t certain what he’s even looking at until Taylor specifies further:

“His neck,” she exhales, “do you see those small, rounded marks? The ones looking like open wounds?”

His eyes trail upwards, observing every injured inch of Alex’s spine before he concentrates on the bared neck itself. And she’s right. The skin is infected with small, red blotches. They resemble burn wounds in their fierce and angry colour. They look painfully sore even though they are modest in size. Miles glances over at Taylor, waiting for her to explain.

“I – I’m not sure what I’m looking at,” he admits anxiously. “Did they use some sort of instrument on him?”

Taylor scoffs with revulsion.

“Instrument? No. I wouldn’t call it that. It was more like a weapon. Not a lethal one, a punitive one. The kind of weapon that’s custom-made for torture.” 

Something in her voice has Miles feeling like his whole stomach has plummeted towards his feet. He shivers with agony when it feels as though the blood in his veins has been replaced with ice. He then remembers something that Terry said to him weeks ago, when Miles had only just been introduced to Ruth’s torture chambers for the first time. When Miles had been acting out, Terry had warned him not to do anything funny, like trying to make a run for it. ‘My mum’s bought a stun gun,’ he had said. ‘You wouldn’t want her to have to use it on you, would you?’ 

“I – I think I’m going to be sick!” Miles exclaims suddenly, tasting the bile as it rises in the back of his throat. "Oh my God. No. No, no, no. Oh my GOD!”

Taylor raises herself to her knees, giving him a surprised look.

“You know?”

“Oh my God,” he pants again with the panic rising in his chest, “how could they? How COULD they?!”

“Miles,” she sooths him, but it’s no use. He refuses to calm down. 

“A stun gun?!” He cries like he can’t believe it. “They used a fucking STUN GUN on him? While he was tied up and defenceless?!” 

She looks towards Alex rather emotionally, biting her lip until she regains her speech.

“I told you it was bad,” she utters remorsefully, “I told you it was torture.”

Miles suddenly jumps up from the floor and she jerks with astonishment, backing away from him instantly without knowing why. He looks furious and downright thirsty for revenge.

“They shocked him!” He bellows madly, pacing back and forth as though the movement is the only thing keeping him from going insane. “They shocked him! Like they hadn’t hurt him badly enough!”

However, when Taylor expects him to punch the wall and call for murder, for blood, Miles does the opposite. He falls back down on his knees, gasping as he begins to sob.

“I’m sorry,” he cries brokenly, every trace of anger disappearing from his voice. Taylor raises her brows when she realises he’s talking to Alex’s prone figure. “I failed you. I – I couldn’t protect you…”

Deciding that he must be losing his mind faster than she thought, Taylor is burdened by a new pang of guilt. When Miles runs a shaky hand through Alex’s hair and presses his forehead down against the other’s shoulder, she gets the feeling of being a mere fly on the wall, or someone who’s retreated back into a shadow. Someone who isn’t really there. She witnesses Miles’s upset – the kind of upset that has been spreading so painfully inside her own stomach – and understands the reality of his devotion. While she would love nothing more than to be the person by Alex’s side, the person to cry for him, to care for him, she acknowledges the fact that she’s wasted her chance. Alex is never coming back to her, not after what happened last night. She’s made a horrible, irrevocable mistake that he is never going to forgive her for, no matter how sweet her declarations of love for him may sound.

She’s never again going to hold him in her arms, or kiss him playfully against his will. 

Miles is.

“You didn’t fail him,” she speaks slowly and at first, it doesn’t seem like Miles has even heard her. “You couldn’t have done any more to protect him. He knows that.”

Miles looks up at her with eyes that are both offended and bloodshot. 

“You’re right. I didn’t fail him. You did,” he sneers spitefully. “And for what price? What did you expect to gain from this? You’ve lost everything, Taylor. Me and Alex, if we die in here, at least we’ll die together. But you, you have nothing! You have no one to either live or die for. So don’t you dare look at me like I’m the sad one…”

“I’m not! You’re not,” she corrects him quickly, hoping to appease him. “You’re right. I’ve been wrong about everything and I’m never going to be able to compensate for my mistakes. I just want you to know that I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Miles.”

“Stop talking,” Miles blubs aggressively before he chokes again, “just tell me… Tell me what I need to know. Tell me about… the stun gun…”

“The stun gun?”

“Tell me what it looked like. I mean… Tell me what it did to him. Tell me how many times… how long… before he passed out…”

She holds her breath, feeling uncertain.

“Are you sure you want to know?” She probes cautiously, sensing Miles’s weakness. However, her hesitation only pushes him over the edge:

“TELL ME NOW!” He demands devastatingly. “I can’t stand not knowing! Don’t you get it? I’m not the one who should be protected from the truth. I – I don’t even deserve to be protected!” 

When she is persuaded that he means it, Taylor inhales deeply and moves further back to settle herself down against the wall. Drawing her legs closer to her body, she curls up and wraps her arms around her shins. Watching Miles as he lingers faithfully by Alex’s side, she nods:

“Alright. I won’t spare you the details, then.”

And she begins to tell him about that horrible moment when the brothers went up behind Alex’s back and blindfolded him before giving him any warning of what was to come. Without letting him see their chosen weapon, they had denied him any chance of preparing himself. Already suffering and bleeding, they let him hang there until his arms were bloodless and numb. They let him hang there until he lost his voice from screaming, until every aching limb of his was cramping and twitching. What Taylor doesn’t tell Miles is that despite his compromised position and his humiliation, despite the blood and gore, she had still thought him to be hypnotically beautiful. She had beheld his exposed body in profound silence while Perry and the others were too busy laughing to notice her longing. She remembers Alex’s smooth and soft-looking skin before it was cut open; so desirable and enticing to her. Despite the obvious consequences, she had almost wanted to touch him. Alex’s lean frame and pink lips had been put on display before her, reminding her why she had fallen in love with the boy in the first place. He was so unobtainable, it was killing her. It had almost felt like he was divine, something heaven-sent and unreal. And so, it had seemed like such an unjustifiable crime when the brothers had begun to batter him black and blue.

“Like I said, he couldn’t see anything,” she tells Miles slowly whilst ensuring that her own private thoughts are concealed from him, “so when Terry pressed the stun gun against his neck and shocked him for the first time, it took him a moment to react. When Terry kept it on him instead of letting go, he started thrashing and crying. I – I have never heard anyone make that kind of noise before. It was so desperate. So full of pain.”

“I heard him,” Miles informs her through a dirty look, “I heard every moment of it. But unlike you, I didn’t possess the ability to make it stop.”

Letting his remark pass, she goes on to describe the effects, the force of the strike. She shares with him every unspeakable detail that she heard from Perry who had boasted openly about the mechanics of the gun. Perry had told her that a strike wouldn’t only leave its victim dazed and confused, but temporarily disabled. When she watched it happen to Alex, he had cruelly reminded her that the energy transferred from the gun into the individual delivers a powerful shock to the victim’s muscles, restricting the impulses of the nerves in the body. He had notified her that following each gun strike, Alex’s muscles would become extremely tense, making him lose all control of balance until he was temporarily paralysed. During his loss of muscular control, his neurological impulses would be interrupted severely. Leading to a decrease in blood flow, his muscles would be forced into overdrive, causing him a wave of pain more intense than anything else. 

“They said that a strike can take someone down for up to half an hour,” Taylor mutters wanly, remembering how she had felt so sick, she thought she would have either fainted or emptied her stomach all over the floor. Though she had turned out fine, the trauma of it all had twisted itself like a knife into her bones, leaving her with an unyielding sense of panic and terror. “Although,” she huffs, “of course they didn’t give him the time to recover. While he was still in shock and unable to move, they would strike him again in order to double the agony, in order to make his muscles cramp and contract until it became unbearable for him.” 

Miles sobs again, holding Alex slightly closer to him like a toddler might hold on to a teddy bear when his night-time story felt too scary. Taylor is momentarily astonished with the fact that his anger seems to have been swallowed up by his sorrow instead. Against all logic, he’s forcing himself to hear her out until the very end. Until there’s nothing left for her to tell him. 

“How long?” He croaks suddenly, whimpering slightly. “How long did this go on for? How many times did they strike him?”

Though she isn’t trying to dodge the answer to this, she finds herself shrugging. 

“I lost count,” she admits sheepishly, looking down at her own hands. “I think they stroke him, what, maybe twenty times? Maybe thirty? Sometimes I had to look away. Sometimes it wasn’t just a strike. Terry would keep it on him for almost a minute at a time. You’re not supposed to do that. You’re supposed to do it quick, because the victim is down immediately. But he wouldn’t stop. He didn’t want Alex to stop screaming.”

She tells him about every tensing muscle in Alex’s body. She tells him about the way that he would shake and tremble from exhaustion in between the strikes. She tells him about the way that Alex’s cuts and wounds began to bleed all over again from the throbbing pain.

“I felt relieved when he finally blacked out,” she finishes gloomily. “I wished it had happened a lot sooner. Suddenly, there was no more crying, no more struggling. My heart felt instantly lighter just knowing that his pain had stopped.” Miles snorts at this and Taylor suspects that he doesn’t believe her. “However, Terry – that bastard – kept trying to shock him, just to see if he was faking it. Just to see if a shock could wake up Alex again. Luckily, he remained unresponsive. He’s been out ever since.”

Miles then gasps and makes a sudden movement. 

“Oh my God,” he whines with increased worry, “what if – what if he’s unable to wake up?” Without hesitation, Miles presses an ear down to Alex’s chest, searching frantically for a steady heart rhythm. “Fucking hell, Taylor!” He roars accusingly. “When someone’s been shocked, the heart rate is the first thing you monitor!”

As she’s accused of being careless, Taylor responds with equal offense.

“You don’t think I’ve checked already? I told you from the start, Miles, he’s alive! A stun gun isn’t a lethal weapon. It’s bad, but – it’s not that bad.”

Still, Miles isn’t satisfied until he’s checked for himself. At the comforting sound of Alex’s dull, though regular heartbeats, he draws a breath of relief and falls back down to slump his body against the floor.

“Thank God,” he whispers, wiping his tears away, only to realise that they keep on coming. 

Then he raises himself back up and reaches for the tray of supplies.

“What are you going to do?” Taylor asks him stupidly, watching as his hand tightens around a water bottle.

“What do you think I’m going to do?” He snarls. “I’m going to get him off these dirty floors. And then I’m going to clean him.”

Reaching underneath Alex’s legs and shoulders, Miles picks him up easily and carries him into his arms. Alex remains obscenely floppy, his arms hanging loose and his head tilting back until it is practically upside-down. 

“Miles,” Taylor whispers, “let me help you.”

“No way,” he groans, carrying Alex over to the mattress and putting him down slowly, careful not to drop him. “He wouldn’t want your hands on him. He never has.”

When Alex is sprawled out on his back securely on top of the mattress, Miles walks back to pick up the supplies.

“My Mum’s a nurse,” Taylor then says suddenly, following him with her eyes, “I know a thing or two about cleansing a wound.”

“You also know a thing or two about putting them there in the first place,” Miles mocks her. “Stay back. I don’t want your help.”

He hovers over Alex and hesitates only for a moment. Then he takes the cap off the water bottle and begins to spill its content gently across Alex’s naked torso. Reaching for a couple of tissues, Miles attempts to dab them against the bloodied skin, acting like he is using a sponge. Rubbing softly against the wet areas in order to clean off the dirt, he bites his lip and feels the sweat tickling at his forehead. He isn’t sure what he’s doing at this point. All he knows is that he’s got to prevent Alex’s wounds from getting infected. Fast. 

Finding a packet of antiseptic wipes next to the soup, Miles opens it warily. He applies more water to the area that concerns him the most; the iron-shaped burn mark stretching across Alex’s ribs. However, as soon as he places one of the wipes on top of the sore, abused skin, a sudden noise, a sudden jolt has him bouncing back in no time. Miles pants heavily and when he looks up from where he’s hidden his head underneath both arms, he feels himself shaking. He has no idea what’s just happened. All he heard was a small groan – like a protest of pain.

“I… I’ve hurt him!” He gasps, the horror running through every ounce of his body. “Alex! H-he made a sound. Didn’t you hear it?” 

Taylor frowns and moves herself closer towards the mattress.

“He’s unconscious, Miles,” is all she says. “It’s okay. Don’t be afraid.”

“But he – he cried!” Miles persists anxiously. “I made him cry! I hurt him! I know I did!”

“That may be, but he hasn’t woken up,” she tells him. “You’ve got to keep going. Better to clean it now while he’s still unaware.” 

Miles glances down at Alex’s still form that is no longer objecting, no longer reacting. But even though Taylor is right that he’s oblivious to his surroundings, Miles cannot bring himself to torment him again.

“I can’t!” He cries passionately, backing away once again. “I can’t touch him, I can’t hurt him, I – I don’t want to!”

Taylor nods quietly. Then she steals the wipe that is still clutched in between Miles’s fingers.

“I’ll do it,” she tells him kindly, gesturing for him to sit down, “it’s okay. I’ve got softer hands than you.”

When she touches Alex’s skin, Miles finds himself holding his breath. Alex remains quiet this time and so, Miles doesn’t stop her from nursing him.

 

*

 

The following morning, Ruth is preparing another breakfast tray (today, waffles) for her expanding group of prisoners downstairs when she hears the kitchen door opening. 

“Percival, darling,” she hums as she spins around to get a look at her youngest, “will you do the honours today? I’m guessing there’s someone down there who’s more than eager to see you.”

With an ugly pout on his face and his arms crossed over his chest, Perry shrugs.

“I don’t think she’d be happy to see me,” he admits, feeling more than sorry for himself, “I think she’ll be furious with me. I’ve left her down there overnight in the company of those… perverts. I can’t even imagine how horrible it must have been for her.”

“Then why didn’t you bring her out of there sooner?” Ruth scoffs. “I’ve told you already, I won’t stand in your way. Do whatever you want with her.”

“I know, but… Maybe I just thought it would be best to teach her a lesson. And now I’m worried I’ve taken it too far. That she’ll hate me when she sees me.” After thinking about it for a moment, he adds: “Can’t Terry do it? Or Harry? Please, Mum.”

“No,” she tells him strictly. “You are not doing yourself any favours by postponing your confrontation with her. Man up for this, Percival. I know you can do it.”

She drops the tray into her son’s hands and pushes him forward impatiently. 

“Go on,” she insists even when he halts, “don’t be difficult with me, I won’t have that.”

Then, when he’s finally accepting his responsibilities and heading for the hallway, the doorbell sounds. Stilling herself, wondering who it could be, Ruth clenches her fists with irritation.

“Be gone, Percival,” she hisses, “I’ve got to see what this is about.”

When Ruth opens the front door, leaving it only slightly ajar, she is only irked again to find two uniformed police officers standing at her doorstep. 

“Mrs Sharpe?” The male officer asks, eyeing her suspiciously. 

“That’s right,” she tells him, unable to mask her annoyance. “What’s going on? Why are you bothering me this early? You didn’t find my nephew, did you?”

“Your nephew?” The female officer repeats, looking almost smug. “If you’re referring to poor, young and motherless Alexander Turner, then no. I’m afraid he’s still missing. It’s good to hear the concern in your voice, though. You must be worried sick for him.”

When Ruth detects the mock-tone in her voice, she tears the door fully open and threatens to come at them both.

“How dare you?” She snaps, exposing her teeth with hostility. “You are wasting your time harassing me when you should be out there looking for him! Give me your name, both of you! I will have a word with your superior.” 

At this, the male officer merely grins and gives her a careless nod.

“That’s all very good, Mrs Sharpe, you can have our names. However, if you don’t mind, we need to have a word with you first. Can we come in?”

“You most certainly cannot!” Ruth spits, looking scandalised. “If you have anything to say to me, you say it out here. I’m not letting you amateurs in without a warrant.”

“Fine,” the younger female spits back, giving her a hard look. “You wanna know why we’re here? We’re here because we had a phone call from a concerned neighbour of yours. Mrs Sharpe, it has been reported to us that prior to your nephew’s disappearance, young Mr Turner showed up in school with a black eye.”

“That’s right,” seconds the other officer as he stares down the much shorter woman in front of them. “And as you may know, child abuse is a serious offense.”

“Child abuse?” Ruth scoffs. “You’ve got to be kidding me. My nephew is no child! He’s seventeen years old!”

“He’s a minor,” the female officer reminds her cuttingly. “Mrs Sharpe, we kindly ask that you follow us to the police station. We have a few questions we would like to ask you.”

When Ruth is about to protest wildly and shut the door in their faces, the male clutches her shoulder and holds her in place.

“If you refuse to cooperate, Mrs Sharpe,” he warns her gravely, “I’m afraid we’ll have to bring you in handcuffed. Now, do you want to do this the easy way or the hard way?”

 

*

 

When Perry bursts in through the door, Taylor awakes with a groan. Since Miles has spent the entire night on the mattress, holding Alex’s unconscious body close and keeping him warm, she’s been forced to sleep curled up against the wall, too uncomfortable to slumber for longer than an hour at a time. Every time she has attempted to rest her body, she has been disturbed by a painful stiffness in either her legs, or back, or neck. Now, jumping awake to find Perry standing before her, she gasps slightly and can’t think of a single thing to say to him.

“Baby,” Perry begins lamely, putting down the breakfast tray on the floor in order to open up his arms for her. He eyes her with concern and regret and he’s genuinely expecting her to run back into his embrace. “I am so sorry,” he finally breathes as he realises she hasn’t moved an inch. “I never should have left you down here in this – in this cold, damp, horrible hell hole.” He pauses again to take a few steps closer. “It’s time to get you out of here. I – I missed you, babe.”

Glancing over at Miles who’s also awake, yet terribly indifferent towards his arrival, Perry wishes to ensure that he stays where he is. He isn’t expecting him to cause any trouble again, not now that he’s busy weeping over the state that his little fuckboy is in. At the same time, however, Perry doesn’t like surprises. Now that he’s seen what it’s like to lose the upper hand, he’s prepared never to let that happen again.

“Perry,” Taylor whispers in a voice that’s full of confusion. Her blue eyes are resting on him, but it doesn’t feel like she’s really seeing him. Perhaps this place has been getting to her already. Perhaps she’s started to lose her mind a little bit.

“I’m here, pet,” he smiles awkwardly, awaiting a bigger reaction than that. “Let me make it up to you. Let’s get you a nice, hot bath. Let me cook for you, I’ll make whatever you want. You deserve only the best – ‘cos you’re mine.”

She finally raises herself to her feet, stretching her limbs tenderly. Hesitating only for another moment, she walks towards him slowly. Even though she’s probably attempting to smile, Perry cannot be certain. He feels like he can’t read her expression at all. 

“Perry,” she whispers again, staring at him like he’s something out of this world. “You came back for me. You really do love me.”

Looking up from where his face has been pressed against Alex’s shoulder, Miles huffs loudly. If he dared to speak, he would have told her that he fucking knew it. He fucking knew she would go back to that son of a bitch.

However, just as she intends to walk into Perry’s embrace, Perry spots something. Taking a step back from her rather harshly, he exclaims:

“What’s that?” He points suddenly at Taylor’s hands. “What the fuck is that?!”

“What?” Taylor takes a look down at herself, baffled by his tone. Holding up her bloodied hands, she shows them to him. “I – I haven’t had a chance to wash myself,” she utters.

But Perry’s face is no longer forgiving and gentle.

“You’ve got his blood on your hands,” he speaks crisply, his expression wiped of all emotion. “His blood!”

When Perry suddenly glowers at Alex, Miles moves himself in front of him, warning Perry not to come any closer.

“Perry,” Taylor stammers, “please… It’s no big deal. It’s…”

“You’ve touched him!” Perry bellows, cutting her off. “And to think that I spent all night feeling guilty about this arrangement! You can’t stay away from him, can you?!”

She freezes at the way his eyes are once again burning with jealousy. 

“Perry, please!” She begs him. “If I can’t stay away, it’s only because you locked me in here with him. Don’t be like this…”

“You’ve been fucking bandaging him! Treating him!” He yells with accusation. “I knew it! I bloody knew I couldn’t trust you!”

Before Taylor is able to appeal to him again, he kicks at the tray before him violently, making the food and drinks spill all over the floor.

“NO!” He shouts when she’s about to speak again. “I don’t want to hear it! Damn you, Taylor! Damn you to hell! I can’t believe I was actually going to forgive you! I can’t believe I was actually going to let you out!” 

Miles expects Taylor to cry for him like she did the first time. However, when Perry flees the scene and locks the door behind him, she remains utterly speechless. 

“What a shame,” he tells her as he sucks his teeth and shakes his head, “to think that you came so close to having a happy ending…”

“Shut the fuck up, Kane,” she hisses quickly, giving him a dangerous look. “I’m not in the mood, alright? Besides, I wasn’t going to go back to him. I’m not an idiot. I would have gone with him, yes, but only to save my sorry arse. Do you think I’m willing to die in here just to repent my mistakes? Fuck you!” 

She returns to her corner and looks away from him stubbornly, clearly enraged. 

“Hmm, that I can believe,” Miles bites back. “The part about you saving your own arse, I mean. And what would have happened after he let you go, huh? Nothing. You would have left me and Alex in here to rot instead of getting help.”

“I would not!” She shrieks. “Just – just leave me the fuck alone! I’m tired of apologising. I’m tired of you blaming me over and over again. It’s getting really old, you know.”

“Oh, is that so?” Miles snarls. “Do you know what’s also getting really old? You pretending to care for Alex, you pretending to cry when he’s hurt when – CLEARLY – you still wish you were back on Perry’s team! You regret nothing! You only wish you hadn’t been found out!” 

“I told you to shut up!” She hollers madly. “I can’t even stand the sound of your voice anymore, did you know that?!”

“Oh yeah, great!” He mocks her relentlessly. “You can’t stand the sound of MY voice – the voice of fucking reason – but Perry’s? Yeah that’s right, you’re practically gagging for him, even though he’s a small-headed, arrogant, selfish, violent, abusive, homophobic arseh-“

“Homophobic?” Taylor interrupts him laughingly. “Ha! How stupid are you? Open your fucking eyes, you prick!”

“Open MY eyes?” Miles curses, looking outraged. “What the fuck are you on about? Everything that those evil sons of bitches have ever done to us, every fucking slap to Alex’s face, every kick, every attempt to end his life has been fuelled by pure hatred! Have you not been paying any attention at all? Did you miss all the slurs, the countless insults? I think the word ‘faggot’ has been thrown about once or twice…”

“You’re right!” Taylor snorts. “It HAS all been fuelled by hatred. But if you truly believe that their hatred of you has got anything to do with homophobia, then you’re the stupid one!”

Miles furrows his brows indignantly. For a moment, all he wants to do is keep fighting her until they’re both out of breath just from screaming at one another. But instead of countering her argument, he challenges:

“Explain yourself! Since when is ‘faggot’ no longer a homophobic slur, hence exemplifying their homophobic nature perfectly?!” 

“’Faggot’ is a homophobic slur, yes,” she agrees, though with a haughty grin, “but it’s all just been an excuse for them to hide behind. Can’t you see? Their loathing of Alex started long before they caught the two of you kissing.”

“Before you ratted us out, you mean!”

“Whatever,” she says with a roll of her eyes, “my point is… It would never have mattered if Alex had chosen to love me instead of you. They would have still hated him the same. Ruth in particular.”

Giving her a perplexed look, Miles inhales sharply. 

“When I first came here, Ruth told me that they were disciplining Alex for his sinful behaviour. That they were punishing him for being sordid! Are you actually telling me that that was all made-up?”

“Ruth talks of sin, but have you ever seen her worship any God of hers that brands gay people as sinners?” She shakes her head slowly. “I bet she’s never even read the Bible. She’s full of shit. You of all people should know that.”

“So she isn’t religious as such,” Miles shrugs, “homophobia doesn’t have to be about religion.”

“And jealousy doesn’t have to be about homophobia,” she remarks. “I’m telling you, Miles, they are trying to fill you with lies. Or, who knows? Maybe they’ve actually started to believe their own lies. That wouldn’t surprise me.”

Losing his patience, Miles feels himself getting worked up again.

“What’s your fucking point?” He snaps. “I don’t follow you at all.”

Then she gives him a hardened look.

“Think about it,” she sighs heavily. “Ruth doesn’t hate Alex because he’s gay, but because she fucking envies him. When she found out that he liked boys, she thought ‘great! Here’s my chance to push him off his fucking pedestal!’” 

“Pedestal?” Miles repeats. “Are you insane? Ruth doesn’t envy him! She – she acts like she hates everything about him!”

“And I bet she does,” Taylor persists. “She hates the fact that Alex is better-liked than her own boys. That he’s got more friends, that he’s better looking, that he’s smarter than them. She hates the fact that Alex’s parents always had more money than her, had a bigger house, better jobs, and did a better job at parenting. For all Ruth knows, the world has been treating Alex like he’s perfect. So she’s trying to convince him that he’s not. That he’s sinful and that he needs to be ashamed of himself.”

For a moment, Miles’s mouth has fallen open, though he isn’t able to find any words. He doesn’t know what to think anymore. He doesn’t even know whether or not it even makes a difference if Ruth is homophobic or not. Her resentment for Alex is the only fact that has ever mattered, because that’s what put them here in the first place. 

“Alright then,” he finally breathes. “Let’s say you’re right. Let’s say Ruth’s making up excuses to punish him. What about her sons, then? Are they faking their homophobia, too?”

Taylor shrugs and leans her head back against the wall.

“Ruth may have convinced them that they are punishing Alex because he’s gay. That they are right to do what they do. But I doubt they are actually that bothered about him being a ‘faggot.’”

“Is that so?” Miles scoffs. “So what, you think they are just following their mother’s orders blindly? Without having an opinion of their own?” 

“Nah,” she tells him. “I think they just like the power that comes with this… ordeal. I think they’re addicted to it. Driven by it. Ruth has let them take charge of things down here and now they’ll do anything to prove how big and tough they are. How manly they are.” She turns her head and gives Miles a vicious look that sends a shiver all the way through his body. “You know, after they tortured Alex that night, Perry told me something. He told me that he wanted to celebrate. I could tell that he was practically high on power. He asked me to have sex with him, but I refused. It was as though his suppression of Alex made him feel like the perfect Alpha-male. It made him feel dominant. He – he had the biggest boner I’ve ever seen. It was practically poking out of his trousers. It was… disgusting.”

She stops talking and Miles is glad. He’s desperately fighting his urge to vomit when, suddenly, a small movement has him flinching and jumping off the mattress in surprise. With his heart pounding frantically in his chest, Miles exhales shakily and inches closer.

Beneath him, Alex opens his eyes for the first time.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex gains consciousness, but he is doing badly. Miles tries hard to help him, though he doesn't have much to work with. In the meantime, Ruth is questioned by the police and when she learns that the Kanes have been trying to rat her out, she takes out her anger on Miles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will be the final chapter of 2017 - see you all in 2018!
> 
> I would like to take a moment to wish everyone a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. Thank you so much for reading my work and for the lovely comments you've been giving me so far.
> 
> I would especially like to wish my dear friend, Alexandra, a merry Christmas - Alexandra, this chapter is dedicated to you as a thank you for the kind words you've given me again and again :) I hope you feel better soon xxx

When Alex’s eyes flutter open slowly, his expression is one of disorientation and uncertainty. However, as the inevitable exhaustion washes over him, the look in his eyes grows instantly troubled. He doesn’t know where he is. He doesn’t remember much and consequently, he is wound up even worse by the pain he’s in. Then, a shadow falls over his face as someone leans in somewhere above him. Alex’s instincts kick in and he cowers impulsively as he’s suddenly back to fearing for his life. However, this time he doesn’t hear anyone laughing. Instead, the person before him falls down to his knees, gasping weakly.

“Oh my God,” the voice sobs, “Alex! Thank God!” 

Then, rather than pain, he finds warmth. Hot tears are landing at his chest while nervous fingers begin to stroke his cheek.

“M-Miles?” He croaks, suddenly recognising, remembering. 

The boy hovering above him cries harder, nodding frantically whilst forcing a smile.

“Yes, I’m here,” Miles chokes, finding himself laughing through his tears for a moment as a sudden wave of joy submerges him. “I’m right here, Alex. You’re going to be okay… You’re okay…”

Locking eyes with one another, a spark that had vanished a long time ago returns to Alex’s features, erasing the anguished frown along with every indication of dread. Inhaling sharply and with difficulty, Alex raises his head and reaches for Miles, only to find that his hand falls straight back against the mattress, completely limp. 

“You’re h-here,” he whispers, ignoring his own motionlessness. “Miles… I c-can’t believe it…”

Without hesitation, Miles lowers himself down next to him, pressing his face against Alex’s chest, bringing them both close to one another. Careful not to squish him or make it hurt, he wraps his arms around Alex, cherishing his touch.

“I missed you so much,” Miles snivels, feeling like an emotional wreck, “I was so scared… So worried… I thought I was going to go out of my mind…”

Alex responds with equal feeling as he tightens his hand and attempts for a movement that he doesn’t have the strength for. Giving up on the idea of touching Miles, he feels his eyes glistening with tears and when Miles raises his head to glance down at him, Alex finds his entire body shaking. 

“I – I thought I was never going to s-see you again, Mi…” He whimpers with devastation. A shiver is running through him and suddenly, he feels very cold. With his bottom lip quivering, his breathing becomes laboured and when Miles realises, he moves off him immediately.

“It’s okay, Al, I’m never leaving your side again,” he promises as he fusses over the other by pulling the duvet even tighter around his body. “You don’t have to be afraid anymore. Everything is going to be fine. You are going to be fine, I swear…”

Miles can’t help himself. On a sudden impulse, he cups Alex’s cheek with his hand and bows down to press a soft kiss against the other’s lips. Though Alex’s eyes are still wide with distress and his breathing hitched, he appears to relax slightly. He trembles with effort when he makes a third attempt at raising his arm only to give up mid-way.

“I – I can hardly move, Mi,” he whispers and if possible, he looks even paler than before. “It… it hurts…”

“Shh, it’s okay,” Miles sooths him, masking his own concern, “you’ve got to rest, Alex. Don’t strain yourself.” He brushes the hair away from Alex’s forehead tenderly and looks him in the eyes meaningfully. “They took you away from me, but I brought you back. You mean everything to me, Alex, and I’m never going to let them take you away again. I – I’m here to look after you. Always.”

Only then does Alex realise where he is.

“I-I’m back,” he murmurs, his eyes darting up to scan over familiar ceilings above him, “I’m back in o-our room…”

“That’s right,” Miles smiles and wipes at his eyes, “you’re back with me. You’re not alone anymore. I’m going to make sure of it.”

“B-but how?” Alex utters weakly. “How did you b-bring me back?”

“It’s a long story,” Miles comforts him simply, “you don’t have to worry about that right now. The important thing is that you’re safe here with me. I’m going to help you get better.”

“Better…” Alex repeats as though he’s only just remembering what’s happened to him. What has made him feel this way. “Oh God,” he hisses suddenly, looking unbearably distraught. Miles then understands that it must all be coming back to him a lot faster than he can process it. “What happened? A-are you okay? D-did they do anything to you?”

Tears are spilling from his eyes and while Alex is unable to move, Miles wipes them away gently using the back of his hand.

“Alex, I’m fine,” he tells the other urgently, giving him a serious look, “don’t you dare worry about me, okay? They – they didn’t touch me. They left me in here on my own, is all. I… I didn’t know when I was going to see you again.”

Alex sniffs and shudders again without looking any calmer.

“H-how long has it been?” He questions with upset. “I lost all sense of time…”

“We were separated for a week,” Miles tells him in a voice that’s filled with regret. “But Alex, you’ve been out cold for more than a day. I was worried sick about you, I was… I need you to tell me how you feel. I need to know how you’re doing so that I can help you.”

Alex frowns his brow for a moment, thinking hard.

“My… my mouth is completely dry,” he confesses, “It’s – it’s hard to talk…”

In a heartbeat, Miles is on it. Reaching for the water, he shows the bottle to Alex and gestures for him to lift his head.

“You need to drink,” he tells him, though Alex remains still. “I’ve got some food for you, too, whenever you’re ready. You’re very weak, Alex, it’s important that you eat as soon as you can…”

Miles waits for him to move, but Alex isn’t even able to flex his shoulders without wincing in pain.

“Miles,” he pants, biting back the sting, “I – I don’t think I can…”

“Here. I’ll help you.”

Miles reaches an arm underneath Alex’s back and begins to lift when he is suddenly interrupted by a sharp cry.

“STOP!” Alex pleads frantically, biting his lip hard in order to keep himself from screaming. “Miles, don’t-“

“Alex, I have to get you off the mattress,” Miles warns him worriedly, realising Alex must be severely dehydrated by now. “I need you to sit upright, just for a moment.”

When he continues to raise Alex’s drooping body upright, Alex tenses his every muscle, causing the pain to flare up.

“No, wait!” He yelps, feeling his heartrate increase quickly as a burning, horrible agony shoots through his body. "I – I can’t!”

Miles moves himself behind him and supports Alex’s body against his own. 

“It’s okay,” Miles breathes, “I’ve got you. Relax, love. Just… just lean on me.”

But Alex twists and writhes, unable to relax when every abused muscle in his body continues to burn and to throb excruciatingly. As he falls back into Miles’s open arms, Alex jolts when a horrible sting intensifies across his abdomen. He cries and threatens to double over, but Miles keeps him steadied. 

“It hurts!” Alex gasps, closing his eyes tightly shut while he pulls a face. “Miles!”

“Shh, take it easy, love. Deep breaths.” With no time to waste, Miles holds the bottle of water up to Alex’s lips, pressing against them lightly. “Here, drink. You need it.”

Alex attempts to take a sip, but ends up spilling the liquid down himself.

“I – I can’t,” he apologises miserably and Miles can feel him shaking. “It… really… hurts…”

But Miles is too determined to let him give up.

“I know, love, I know,” he sighs, moving up a hand to support Alex’s neck, “just give it another go. Just a little bit. For me? Can you do that?”

After another round of struggling and wincing through clenched teeth, Alex finally manages to still himself long enough to take a few sips. Drinking slowly and swallowing with great caution, his cheeks have gone red by the time he moans quietly and gestures to Miles that he can’t hold up his strength. 

“I – I think I need to lie down,” Alex warns him, threatening to pass out again when his vision blurs and his head begins to spin. “I – I don’t feel so good…”

Miles is speaking to him, but suddenly, Alex doesn’t understand a single word he’s saying. When he’s being lowered down unto the mattress slowly, Alex jerks and wines loudly as a sharp pain explodes across his ribs, making him feel like his bones are being smothered into mere dust, unable to sustain the rest of him. Though he finds himself on his back against soft material, the pain lingers and through a low growling in his throat, he tries to communicate his distress.

“Alex!” Miles cries, shaking him lightly by the shoulder, though he’s almost scared to touch him. “Alex, can you hear me? Stay with me!” 

Suddenly, there’s a female voice sounding somewhere across the room and it sounds like she’s moving closer towards them. Alex turns his head weakly in time to see a tall, blonde girl appearing behind Miles. Her eyes are teary with concern. She looks almost mournful. Much to Alex’s dismay, he finds her staring straight back at him.

“Miles!” Taylor exclaims with a gasp. “Stop shaking him! He’s getting worse…”

Miles is saying something again, but Alex is only able to focus on her.

“What… what is she… doing here?” He croaks faintly, his voice reduced to a mere whisper. He means to speak with accusation and anger, but isn’t able to.

Miles frowns with surprise and lets his gaze shift in between Alex and Taylor. Then, when Taylor moves towards Alex’s bedside, Miles snarls at her:

“Stay back! He doesn’t want anything to do with you!”

When Miles returns to Alex and cups his cheek once again, he’s about to ask him what to do. He needs Alex to tell him how to help him get better, but before Alex manages to speak another word, the eyes roll back in his head and his body once again turns utterly comatose.

 

*

 

Some time later, Ruth is doing everything within her power to work against the two interrogators sitting before her and to throw them off course. Annoying them greatly by asking for a cigarette or a glass of water, she strives to waste their time and their patience until they get so fed up with her that they are forced to go straight down to business. Feeling oddly superior and anything but intimidated by the looks she’s getting from the male officer from earlier along with some investigator who appears to have taken charge, she shrugs casually every time they expect her to be nervous and she leans back in her seat, making herself comfortable, rather than asking to be released. They had expected to find a tense woman with a guilty conscience and a fear for the authorities. Instead, they find a woman who is impossible to read and even more impossible to frighten. 

“Mrs Sharpe,” the middle-aged investigator who’s introduced himself as Mr Whittle says, grinning slyly as he eyes the small and unflattering woman in front of them with her unkempt hair and her stained shirt. “I don’t think you realise how serious this is. If you want to do yourself any favours, the least you can do is answer our questions with more than just a ‘yes’ or ‘no.’ Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“Yes,” Ruth replies simply, mocking him with her brevity. When the two men are both giving her a warning look, she scoffs at them and sniggers blatantly. “Apologies, officers, but I don’t see what the issue is. You’ve asked me straightforwardly: Was I responsible for the black eye that people claim they saw my nephew with? And I’ve told you, truthfully and repeatedly, no. I have not hit him. I have not touched him. I don’t know what more you want from me.”

“How about a little sincerity?” The officer who drove her to the station, Mr Henley, challenges her. “Just because you’ve denied laying hands on your nephew does not mean you’ve been helpful to the investigation. You’ve got to give us more than that. If not you, then who? How about you answer that, Mrs Sharpe? Who might have given young Mr Turner that bruise right before he disappeared?” 

“What do I know?” Ruth replies with indifference, shrugging her shoulders. “Some kid at school? Someone who didn’t like him, perhaps. Alexander has always been difficult. He probably asked for it.”

“That’s not what we’ve heard,” Mr Henley cuts her off tersely. “We’ve talked to numeral class mates of your nephew’s,” he elaborates firmly, “none of them described him to be difficult. No one has called him a troublemaker. Not one of them has claimed that he was disliked in any way.” 

“You suggest that he ‘asked for it,’” Mr Whittle picks up, narrowing his eyes, “is that a general attitude of yours? Do you condone violence when you feel it’s justified?” 

They are once again setting up a trap for her, belittling her, but Ruth smiles unworriedly.

“I’m saying that kids will be kids,” she tells them easily. “Who knows? Maybe Alexander threw the first punch.”

“Speaking of kids,” the officer says, clearing his throat, “is there any chance that this is one of your sons’ doing? You’ve got, what, three boys? Would you cover for them if they happened to be involved?” 

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Ruth sneers back at him, rolling her eyes. “My boys are not violent. I’ve raised them well, ask anyone.”

“According to your neighbour, Mrs Pauline Kane, your son, Terrence, broke her son’s window. She says he threatened him. And now, as we all know, young Mr Kane is missing, too.”

She remains silent for a moment, chewing the insides of her cheek with impatience. Then she leans forward in her seat and rests her elbows against the surface of the table.

“If you’ve decided that my son did this, it sounds like you should have brought him in for an interrogation. Not me.”

Her face isn’t revealing any emotion and her tone is resolute. Cold. 

“Mrs Sharpe,” responds Mr Whittle with bafflement, “if you are suggesting that your son is involved-“

“My son is legal,” she interrupts him crossly, “he’s an adult. He’s a good boy, but if he’s fucked up, there’s nothing I can do about it, is there? It wouldn’t be my fault. I’ve been a good parent to him.” 

Stunned with what they’re hearing, the two men before her appear to be exchanging looks with one another before they can continue.

“Ruth – may I call you Ruth? There’s something that I must make absolutely clear to you,” Mr Whittle states, wearing a deadpan expression. “You took on the role as Mr Turner’s legal guardian. If he’s been harmed, or threatened, or if he’s been in any kind of trouble, it would have been your legal responsibility to protect him.”

“It has been my responsibility to feed and to clothe him, yes,” Ruth snorts, “but that does not make me his Mama. That does not mean that I have to hold his hand every step of the way. And no,” she grimaces, “you may not call me Ruth, Mr Whittle. I’m not your friend.” 

“Yeah, well, you’re not your own friend either,” officer Henley intervenes, “if you were, you would take this an awful lot more seriously.”

“I do take this seriously,” Ruth growls, irritated with the accusation in his tone, “I take every waste of my time seriously.”

“I don’t think you do,” Mr Whittle hits back. “If it turns out that your nephew has been subjected to violence under your care and you did nothing about it, you are going to lose a lot more than only the custody of him.”

“That is,” she corrects him, “if he even shows up again. Who knows? Maybe he’s gone for good and we’ll never know what happened.”

“Is that what you want?” Henley exclaims suddenly, slamming his palm down against the table, though she doesn’t even flinch. “I’m starting to think that you don’t even want him – or his friend – to be found!”

Ruth crosses her arms calmly, giving him a vicious stare. When the room seems to be filling with tension, Mr Whittle clutches his colleague’s shoulder with a sigh:

“Henley, let me,” he warns him, “this isn’t helpful.” Ruth smirks at Henley jeeringly, but Whittle is quick to address her. “Mrs Sharpe,” he interrogates, “I’m going to ask you a rather personal question. Do you love your nephew?” 

“Excuse me?” Snarls the woman like this is an insult.

“Your nephew, Alexander,” Whittle repeats slowly, “do you love him? Do you care for him like you care for your own boys?” 

Ruth doesn’t even hesitate.

“No,” she tells him plainly, “I do not.”

“Then why did you and your family move in with him? Why did you decide to become his guardian if he isn’t even that important to you?”

“He needed a custodian,” she huffs. “I needed a bigger house for me and my boys. It was a win-win situation for everyone, wasn’t it?”

“May I remind you that he is missing?” Henley snaps, giving her a look of disgust. “Is that what you call a happy ending? He disappears and is no longer a burden to you while you get to keep the house? Everybody wins?”

At this, Ruth shrugs tiredly.

“Alexander ran away from home because he’s spoiled,” she mutters uncaringly. “His folks were awful, self-centred and lazy parents. They didn’t set any boundaries for him. They didn’t teach him how to behave. He never obeyed my rules, not even after everything I did for him after his folks died. He disrespected me. He caused trouble for me and my boys. He didn’t like the way that I ran the house.” 

“You mean he didn’t like the way that he got punched?” Henley ridicules her. “Is that the real reason why he ran away, Mrs Sharpe? Because he was abused? Did you punish him when he… disobeyed… your rules?”

“I told you,” she exhales, “I never touched him.”

“Did your sons?”

“Excuse me?”

“Did your sons punish him for you?” Henley suddenly writes down something in his notebook in front of him. “You confessed to us that you don’t love your nephew. Do your sons feel the same way about him?”

“That wasn’t a confession,” Ruth objects. “It’s something that everyone knows. I was just answering your question honestly. But, yes. I think it is fair to say that my sons don’t love Alexander, either. He’s never treated my boys well. He’s been ungrateful. He doesn’t show them the appreciation they deserve.” 

“Still,” Henley maintains, “it’s funny. Even if you don’t love this boy – this vulnerable, young, orphaned boy in your family that you agreed to take care of and protect – most people would have still been worrying sick to find him missing. You, on the other hand, don’t seem to care that much. Are you not worried that his disappearance is going to reflect badly on you? Are you not worried that people are going to think that you… drove him away?”

Ruth frowns for a moment, keeping quiet. Scowling with contempt at both Henley and Whittle, feeling utterly underestimated by the two of them, she decides that she can no longer hold her feelings back.

“You call Alexander vulnerable, young and orphaned,” she starts, pulling a face of disapproval, “you call him part of my family. Like that’s supposed to increase my concern for him. But tell you what, officer Henley. He’s anything but vulnerable. You make him sound so exposed, so… at risk. You make him sound like the most innocent victim, though he’s not.”

“He’s not a victim?”

“No. He’s the one causing me trouble by pulling this stunt. He’s the one causing people to give me weird looks. Like I’m the bad guy here. Did it ever occur to any of you that I’m the actual victim?”

Barely able to contain their smiles, officer Henley and Mr Whittle give each other a smug look. 

“Mrs Sharpe,” Whittle snorts, “please explain to us how you could possibly be the victim in this scenario.”

Suddenly, it’s Ruth who’s slamming both palms against the table and she stands up from her seat so quickly, so full of anger, that Henley instinctively jumps out of his chair and warns her to get back down.

“I am sick and tired of people showing him favouritism!” She barks, ignoring the officer’s warning. “What even makes him so God damn special? Ever since Penny squeezed him out, I have been burdened with everyone’s bullshit! When he was a toddler, all people could say was how adorable he was, what a pretty little face he had! When he started school, all people could say was how clever he seemed, how well he could spell and read! Do you think people ever took a second to praise my boys in the same way? Do you think people ever looked at my boys in the same way that they would always, ALWAYS look at him?!” 

Her entire body appears to be quivering and while she draws another wrathful breath, Henley pulls out a set of handcuffs from his pocket.

“Mrs Sharpe, I am going to have to ask you to lower your voice,” he commands, gesturing for her to sit back down, “if you don’t calm down, I’m going to have to-“

“What?” She cuts him off, spitting. “Handcuff me? For speaking my opinion? For exercising my freedom of speech? Are you really going to lock me up for telling you the truth about him?” 

“Please, Mrs Sharpe,” Whittle negotiates, “no one is going to lock you up. Just take your seat, will you?”

“No!” She cries, pushing her chair up against the edge of the table. “I’m done here! I have nothing more to say to you! Let me out of here.”

“This isn’t over until we say so,” Henley declines strictly, “We’ve still got questions that we need you to answer.”

“I have answered all your bloody questions already!” She shrieks. “I have never hit my nephew! The Kanes are making it up! They have been hostile towards us right from the beginning! You tell them to leave me and my sons alone, how about that?” 

“Mrs Sharpe, the Kanes are not the only ones who’ve seen Mr Turner with a black eye. We’ve since talked to Mrs Jill Helders, and to a teacher of your nephew’s by the name Hayward…”

“They are all liars!” Ruth thunders, throwing her arms about her passionately. “Too bad there is no fucking evidence! To fucking bad there are no photographs of Alexander’s bruises! I’m telling you, they are all conspiring against me! This is a set-up! There is absolutely no evidence that Alexander was subjected to violence and you know it! You can’t do shit! Now – let me out of here before I call my lawyer!” 

 

*

 

The next time, Alex wakes up to the sensation of being cradled and for a brief moment, he is ridded of all pain as he feels himself falling back against warm and comforting skin, his head rocked gently against a shoulder and his arms held still, kept from putting up a fight. He’s been caught in a moment of distress right before he comes to. As though caught in a vivid nightmare, he’s been crying and moaning in his sleep, flailing himself about dangerously in order to escape his torments. However, these torments are more than just a bad dream. They are a memory. They are a living sore on his limbs, making him squirm in agony so bad that not even his state of unconsciousness has been enough to numb the sting. Alex whimpers again, tensing fast as he returns to reality.

“Alex,” Miles whispers somewhere close to his ear, tickling him with his breath, “Alex, wake up. You’re… you’re crying…”

With a sudden jerk, Alex’s eyes snap open and he finds himself lying in Miles’s arms, held like an infant who’s unable to support himself. The first thing he notices is that he’s soaked in sweat. He feels like he’s on fire. Every inch of his body is hurting and in his fevered, restless state, all he senses is the burning. 

He has no idea how long he’s been out for. He doesn’t even bother to ask when he finally recalls where he is.

“Miles…” He stammers as the breath hitches in his throat. “It… hurts…”

He’s trembling frantically, feeling himself weakening by the second. It feels like drowning with nothing to hold onto. It feels like choking without passing out. Every second awake is suddenly torture and Alex doesn’t know what to do.

“Where does it hurt?” Miles asks with desperation, leaning in over him. Ever since hearing Alex moan and complain in his sleep, he’s had his arms locked around the other, holding him close for protection. Now, he’s beginning to realise that letting Alex sleep would have been the merciful thing to do. “Alex, talk to me,” Miles pleads, “what can I do? How can I make it better?” 

“Make… it… stop…” Alex gasps, arching his back as though caught in a spasm. He writhes and struggles, though his movements are restricted and his arms and legs almost frozen. “Please,” he sobs, “anything… anything to m-make it stop…”

“But, I,” Miles babbles, “I – I can’t do anything. I don’t have any painkillers. Alex, I’m so sorry…”

“The bitch didn’t give us any,” Taylor then adds from across the room, watching passively while Alex falls apart in Miles’s arms. 

“Stay out of this!” Miles hisses at her, baring his teeth. “No one cares what you have to say!”

“What i-is she… doing here?” Alex questions feebly, seeking Miles’s eyes with his own. He remembers staring into Taylor’s face before passing out and once again, he’s disturbed to find that she’s still with them. “S-she shouldn’t… be here…”

“I know, love, I couldn’t agree more,” Miles pacifies him by pressing a kiss to his forehead, “I’m afraid we’re stuck with her. Perry has turned against her, I guess, but it doesn’t matter. Just ignore her. Please, love, just look at me. I’m going to find a way to make you better. I promise…”

“You can’t promise him that!” Taylor interferes again, giving Miles a scandalised look. “Miles, please, just stop pretending that everything’s going to be okay! Look at him for crying out loud! He’s really hurt – you can’t fix him just by saying words.”

“AND WHO’S FAULT IS THAT?” Miles yells suddenly, forgetting himself for a moment until he’s so livid that he squeezes around Alex’s arms unintentionally. “I’m serious, Taylor – stay out of this!” 

Alex whimpers again and instantly, Miles’s features turn soft and soothing for him.

“Mi,” he whispers pleadingly, forgetting that they are both equally powerless, “I – I don’t w-want her here…”

“I know,” Miles sighs, his hand caressing Alex’s hair, “neither do I. Just – just focus on me, alright? Pretend she’s not here.” 

Taylor raises herself from the floor, a hand clutched to her chest like she’s physically wounded. 

“Alex,” she gasps emotionally and theatrically, stepping closer despite her lack of permission, “please don’t do that. Don’t ignore me. It’s been so long, I – I want to talk to you.”

She approaches slowly and Miles can practically feel the shuddering of Alex’s body. Alex turns his head to glance up at her, but he is quick to change his mind.

“N-no,” he stutters faintly, pressing his head closer against Miles’s shoulder. “No – M-Mi… Get her a-away from me… G-get her away…”

“You heard him,” Miles tells her aggressively, though she pretends not to hear him, “now, fuck off!”

“Just – wait!” She exhales tenderly, suddenly crouching down on the floor next to them both. “Alex, I just want you to know how sorry I am for what happened to you. You have to believe me. I – I never wanted any of this…”

She reaches her hand out to touch his arm, but Alex flinches violently and for the first time since waking up, he manages to move his entire body as he retreats and curls up in Miles’s arms.

“No!” He squeaks, looking and sounding absolutely terrified. “Leave m-me alone!”

In a heartbeat, Alex feels himself falling down against the mattress as Miles seems to have let go of him. Only then does he realise that Miles is now on his feet, leaping upon Taylor like a savage.

“DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE TOUCH HIM!” He hollers as he tackles her to the ground and pushes her as far away from Alex as he can. “YOU BETRAYED HIM! I fucking warned you, Taylor – you are not going to be forgiven just like that! So FUCK OFF!” 

Alex’s landing is unexpected and hard enough to temporarily wind him. However, when he feels a pressure against his ribs, against burned and abused skin, he cries brokenly in pain. The entire size of the burn mark that’s branded into his flank is flaring up and if he had thought himself to be on fire before, it was nothing compared to the scorching, boiling hot pain that sweeps over him now so cruelly that all he manages to do is roll into a ball, crumbling and collapsing utterly with agony. 

“Alex…” Miles breathes in horror. When he hears the other moaning, he immediately removes himself from Taylor. “Shit! Alex – are you okay?” 

When Alex feels a hand touching at his shoulder, he breaks down crying from the top of his lungs:

“MAKE IT STOP!” He begs devastatingly, causing Miles to recoil. Tears are spilling down red-hot cheeks while Alex’s small and lean body begins to tremble even worse. “I – I can’t take this anymore!” He then gasps, panting with great difficulty. “Mi, please – m-make it stop… Anything! I’ll do a-anything…”

At the look of Alex’s state, Miles feels himself choking up. His vision blurs with tears, however, Miles refuses to give into them. He’s supposed to be strong. He’s supposed to know better than to weep.

“I – I can’t do anything,” he whimpers apologetically, pulling at his own hair unconsciously in order to act out his frustration. “You know I would do anything if only I could. Love, I’m so sorry…”

“No… please…” Alex sobs, writhing and thrashing as he’s slowly regaining muscle control. “Don’t do this to me… Don’t…”

“Don’t do what, love?” Miles frowns in concern, inching closer. “Alex, please… Talk to me.”

However, when Miles attempts to wrap his arms around him again, Alex screams frantically.

“Get off me! GET OFF ME!”

Miles stumbles backwards, suddenly scared to death that he’s hurt him. He feels his body shaking with dread until he believes himself to be petrified. Turned into stone. He doesn’t know what to do, or say. He doesn’t understand what’s happening.

“Miles, he’s delusional,” Taylor utters darkly somewhere behind him. He doesn’t care that she’s bruised her ribs slightly after he threw her to the floor. She inhales sharply, as though in pain, but it makes no difference to him. All he can care about is Alex. “It’s probably the fever,” she adds, realising Miles doesn’t give two shits about her, “I – I think he’s having a flashback. Maybe he doesn’t know where he is anymore.” 

Hanging his head mournfully, Miles closes his eyes, trying to tear himself away from watching Alex’s struggle. 

“If he’s having a flashback, Taylor,” he retorts spitefully, “then who is he wanting to get off him? I’m thinking you would know.”

Retreating back into her corner slowly, Taylor nods and accepts his lashing out at her. 

“Fine. Just – just let him be. For now, anyway,” she tells him sombrely. “There’s nothing we can do to relieve his pain. We’re only making it worse.”

“What?” Miles cries with outrage, looking over his shoulder to scowl at her. “Am I supposed to just sit back and watch him suffer like this?”

“Yes,” she rasps. “I’m afraid you have no choice.”

 

*

 

Ruth returns to the house feeling exasperated and frankly, discriminated against. As soon as she walks up the driveway, she catches Terry and Harry’s anxious faces in the window and when she makes it inside, they both come running to find out what on earth is happening. 

“Mum!” Harry exclaims, irking Ruth with his desperation. “We saw you being taken away in a fucking police car!”

“Are you okay? A-are we okay?” Terry interrogates further and though he’s a big lad in every sense, something in his fearful eyes is making him look small like a toddler. 

“They arrested me. I’m going to prison. That’s why I came to say goodbye,” Ruth mocks them both, rolling her eyes as though to point out their stupidity. “Relax for Heaven’s sake. Everything is fine,” she elaborates when her sons are practically holding their breaths with concern. “It’s like I’ve told you guys a million times already, the police are nothing but incompetent fools. They don’t know shit. They’ve got nothing on us.”

“Then why did they take you away?” Harry cries, looking unconvinced. 

“They were trying to intimidate me,” Ruth huffs, lighting herself a cigarette. “They thought they could get some sort of confession out of me, so they took me in for an interrogation. Apparently, our neighbours have been talking. Mr and Mrs Kane,” Ruth grimaces with disgust, “in other words, the parents of our young house guest,” she adds in reference to Miles, “have been telling people about Alexander’s black eye. He showed up in school with a bruised face right before we locked him up. That little rat.” 

“The Kanes,” Terry frowns, trying to remember his encounter with them. “Those sons of bitches! I’m going to kill them! I should – I should pay them a little visit, don’t you think?”

“Yeah!” Harry concurs. “We’ll teach them not to spread any God damn rumours about us! Those – those freaks!” 

“No,” Ruth inhibits them firmly as she takes a drag, “I forbid you to speak to them. I forbid you to speak to any of our neighbours for that matter, do you understand? We need to keep a low profile. We don’t want them to come looking for evidence, do we?”

“But Mum,” Harry groans, “this is so unfair! They’ve been talking shit about us – we need to stand up for ourselves! For our family.”

“For crying out loud,” she sighs, feeling increasingly agitated, “have I not made myself clear? DO NOT talk to anyone! Don’t even leave the house, I won’t have you guys ruining this for me. I refuse to get caught. I don’t know about you, but I am in no way finished.”

“Neither am I,” Terry mutters, a dark shadow falling over his face, “you’re right, Mum. We’ve only just started. We can’t get caught. Not now.”

“Good.” Ruth exhales, relaxing slightly. “I’m glad that you agree. However, just to clear the air, I suggest that we make a short visit to the basement.” When her boys are both looking at her with peaked interest, she continues: “You can’t punish the neighbours for blabbing, but you can at least give their son a friendly warning.”

 

*

 

Ruth takes in a deep breath to prepare herself while Terry kicks the door open in order to make their entrance grander. Stepping inside the slightly overcrowded basement room, the first thing she sees is the kid kneeling down next to her nephew’s body, holding a damp cloth to his pallid forehead. Alex is awake it seems, though motionless with exhaustion, while Miles is left to look deeply anxious. Secondly, Ruth spots the girl hiding in her corner, looking sore, uncomfortable and utterly out of place. Realising that she doesn’t belong in the same company as the young lads, Ruth feels a pang, or a small hint of sympathy, or regret, for not having let her out any sooner.

“For crying out loud,” she exclaims while her eyes are fixed on Taylor, “are you still here? Has my Perry really not forgiven you yet? He’s useless! You can never trust him to do the right thing.” Ruth gestures for her to get up from the floor, but Taylor doesn’t even flinch. “Get out of here, lass,” she then directs, “we’ll get you a room of your own. You deserve your privacy after what you’ve helped us to accomplish.” 

When Taylor continues to hesitate, Terry marches towards her, yanking her upright by the arm.

“Where’s Perry?” Taylor yelps suddenly, looking more frightened than relieved. “Can I talk to him? How long are you going to keep me here?” 

“My Perry will decide when you’re going to earn your freedom back,” Ruth informs her robotically, ignoring the way that the blonde girl appears to tremble with fear, “so I suggest that you go next door and wait for him to return to you. I’m sure he’ll want to talk to you eventually, dear.”

Terry forces her up on her feet and pushes her ahead of him, urging her to walk. Taylor gasps and looks over her shoulder doubtfully. Watching Alex one final time as she has no other choice but to leave him and Miles behind, she feels unbearably torn.

“Alex!” She cries, struggling lightly. “I’m – I’m really sorry!” 

Terry pushes her again, nearly causing her to stumble. When they both disappear from the room, Miles scoffs with contempt and feels secretly glad that she’s no longer their burden. If it means that she’ll never again be able to lay a finger on Alex, he will rather that she walks free. Even though she doesn’t deserve it.

“You can stop pulling faces, boy. She’s gone and you won’t see her again,” Ruth snarls and for once, she isn’t trying to poke fun at him. She sounds genuinely angry, however, instead of asking himself what has made their relationship grow increasingly sour, Miles responds with a fury that’s somehow identical. 

“I don’t care why you’re here and I don’t care what you have to say!” He snaps, raising himself to his feet. “When I asked you for supplies, I told you to give me everything I need to make Alex better! That involves some bloody painkillers, don’t you think?” Removing himself from Alex, Miles clenches his fists and looks Ruth straight in the eyes. “Look at him for fuck’s sake! He’s in so much pain, he can’t even sleep!”

Though they are talking about him, Alex remains completely still. He isn’t capable of speaking for himself. He looks like he barely even knows what’s happening around him. Though his skin is colourless and his hands and feet numb with cold, he’s bathed in sweat from having hot flashes. He’s shaking delicately, his body looking somewhat tense and stiff. There’s a dark, bloodied mark on his bottom lip, exposing the way that he’s been forced to bite himself in order to silence his cries. When Miles stands up and leaves his side, Alex barely even registers. 

Ruth eyes her nephew coldly before giving Miles an unforgiving look. 

“You want me to remove his pain,” she mutters bitterly, “is that what you’re saying?” 

“I want you to fucking give me what you owe me!” Miles hollers, feeling his heart pounding so vigorously that black spots are threatening to dance before his eyes. “You did this to him and he’s still fucking suffering! Now give him some FUCKING painkillers!” 

“I’m afraid we’re out,” Ruth retorts with a grimace, “but not to worry, son, I’m sure that we can think of a way that’s equally efficient.”

She snaps her fingers and like a mindless bloodhound, Harry leaps forward before Miles can even stop him. Jumping on top of Alex’s chest, Harry presses his weight down against him hard, crushing and compressing Alex’s much slighter body until the wind is knocked out of him. Locking both hands around Alex’s throat next, Harry grunts dangerously as he begins to choke him hard and with determination. Alex makes a faint, suffocated sound though there is no fight left in his body. His arms jerk once only before falling back down against the ground, remaining painfully flaccid. 

“NO!” Miles screams, throwing himself at Harry in a weak attempt to push him over. “Stop it! STOP IT!”

The fist comes out of nowhere, taking Miles by utter surprise. When a powerful punch collides with his throat, it is easily the worst pain that Miles has ever experienced. It doesn’t only knock him down to the ground. It shocks him so severely that he thinks he’s going to pass out. Reaching for his throat with quivering hands, his eyes widen in panic as he realises that his airway has closed. There is an immediate swelling. A spasm that seizes his very larynx, causing him to produce an obscene noise that barely even sounds human. Miles rolls over and continues to writhe with distress. Desperate for oxygen, Miles’s peripheral vision is filling with black spots and as they close in on him, he looks up into Ruth’s face as she hovers above him ominously.

She’s punched him. The woman who had sworn to hold her hand over him has broken her promise and punched him straight in the throat. It doesn’t only feel like a betrayal. It feels like a fucking attempt on his life.

“When are you going to learn, boy?” She hisses in his face without revealing any sense of remorse. “Fighting me will get you nowhere. I will always win. And you will lose everything.”

When Miles tussles on the floor, Ruth lifts her foot and presses it down against his chest, keeping him in place. At the same time, Harry pushes one of his massive knees forward and lets it dig into Alex’s chest, squashing him like a mere insect until he’s wheezing and choking harder. 

Miles feels the tears prickling in his eyes. His body continues to struggle frantically, his clogged-up throat still throbbing hard from the assault. He’s left completely disarmed. If his airways don’t open again soon, he’s going to pass out and smother himself to death.

“I bet you would beg me right now if you could. Am I right?” Ruth scowls mercilessly. “Why? I’m taking care of your problem, aren’t I? Soon Alexander won’t be able to feel a thing. I thought that was what you wanted.”

Miles releases a horrible, whimpering sound like an injured animal, shaking his head as firmly as he can without curling up in pain. No – this is the very opposite of what he wanted. Obviously. 

Harry’s hands are crushing against Alex’s windpipe relentlessly even as the younger boy beneath him begins to convulse in an agonised spasm. Alex is fading fast and without being able to fight back, he surrenders to the attack by letting the eyes roll back in his head once again. Once his body has gone completely limp, Harry lets go just before he kills him.

“See,” Harry snarls bigheadedly as he dismounts his younger cousin, “he’s blacked out. No more pain. You got what you asked for, turdface. Works better than any medicine, don’t you think?”

“Don’t worry. You can get a refill of your prescription any time you want,” Ruth warns Miles chillingly. “I owe you that much.”

Miles feels as though he’s about to have a seizure. His vision blurs and he’s lost all control of his limbs. Right before slipping out of consciousness, he’s vaguely aware of Harry looming over Alex’s body. Delivering a violent kick straight to Alex’s kidney, Harry laughs when the other fails to react.

“See,” he chuckles again, “no pain at all. Nothing to worry about.”

Miles blinks repeatedly, struggling against his oncoming oblivion. Rasping and gagging in desperation, he tries one last time for a small breath of air, or for a cough. Urging the muscles in his throat to relax, to stop cramping and contracting, he jolts unexpectedly when Ruth’s foot removes itself from him. For a moment, everything stops. All sound fades into white noise and everything before his eyes becomes a sharp, white light that blinds him. The feeling stays with him for what feels like only a second or two. Then, suddenly, Miles awakes to the sound of his own gasping. Finally able to breathe and to cough and to cry all at once, he bounces back to life and flings himself onto his side. When he blinks his eyes back open and looks up from the floor, he sees that Ruth and Harry have left the room. After checking to make sure that Alex is by his side, Miles retches urgently and manages to roll over before he begins to puke his guts out all over the floor. 

 

*

 

It’s late at night before Alex recovers from his latest incident. After another round of his crying and twisting in pain, asking for sedatives that will never come his way, Miles is back to wishing that Alex would have stayed unconscious just a little while longer. It’s not about making things any easier for himself. It’s about him running out of ways to comfort the other and to talk Alex out of his hallucinations. As though Miles isn’t facing enough difficulties already having to force Alex to both eat and drink even when his throat is sore and swollen, he, too, has been falling increasingly weak ever since waking up from Ruth’s sucker-punch. While his breaths remain shallow and laboured, Miles is beginning to realise, much to his own horror, that his assault has caused his asthma to act up. It isn’t so bad at first, however, once he finds himself heaving, the lack of oxygen goes straight to his brain, causing his every effort to exhaust him. 

In a moment of clarity and remembering where he is, Alex looks up at Miles. His doe eyes are soon filling with concern as he perceives Miles’s shortness of breath.

“Mi…” He whispers suddenly, taking the other by surprise. “Wh-what’s wrong? Are you o-okay?” 

For a moment, Alex looks clueless and innocent like a child and Miles then realises that he feels like the adult who must try not to break any bad news to him.

“Alex, I’m fine,” he hears himself rasping unconvincingly, “don’t look at me like that. I’m not the one with a fever.” Saying that, Miles pauses to feel Alex’s forehead. “You’re still warm. You need to rest.”

“Miles,” Alex persists, frowning at the cold touch, “you g-got punched. I saw it. Your n-neck is swollen a-and red…”

“And your neck has Harry’s fingerprints on it,” Miles retorts. “You were out for a lot longer than I was.”

“B-but you’re wheezing…” Alex shivers, though he continues stubbornly. “And you w-were sick… On the floor. I c-can smell it…”

Miles sighs slightly. “Alex, you’ve been having flashbacks ever since you woke up. You’ve been writhing and screaming in pain. This is insignificant in comparison.”

“It’s – it’s your asthma. Isn’t it?” Alex’s voice is pushy, though also nervous. “C-come on. You can tell me.”

“No!” Miles exclaims suddenly, surprising even himself. Giving the other a serious look, he mutters: “Don’t you dare worry about me. I – I won’t have that. Not after everything you’ve been through. Trust me, I’ll be fine.” When Alex is about to protest again, Miles shushes him and cups his face. “Love, listen to me. I’m fine. Nothing’s going to happen to me. I just wish I had me inhaler is all. This cold room isn’t very good for my health.” 

Alex swallows silently, hesitating. 

“I – I thought Ruth had promised n-never to h-hurt you,” he whispers. “She c-called you her g-guest…”

“I thought so, too, but we both know she’s full of shit,” Miles groans. “I dunno… I must have done something to upset her. Again.” 

”I – I don’t want you to g-get hurt, Mi. Not b-because of me.” Alex’s face is now burdened with grief. Suddenly, Miles can’t take it anymore. He can’t even believe that despite everything, Alex is still acting as though the two of them have faced equal peril. 

“How can you even say that?” Miles gasps, his sense of guilt spilling over the barriers inside his head. “Alex, I told you – you can’t worry about me. You need to preserve your strength for more important things. Besides, it’s you that they’ve been targeting all along. It’s you that they’ve been cutting open and – and burning… I’ve been protected when you haven’t. I-it’s not fair.”

“It’s not fair… that you get hurt… when you stand u-up for me,” Alex counters, pulling a tormented face. His chest is rising and falling quietly, sending a jab of pain through his torso with each breath. “I d-don’t want you to s-stand up for me anymore. It’s t-too dangerous…”

“Alex, if I don’t stand up to them, you could die!” Miles suppresses a small sob as he pulls at his own hair. “They will kill you if I let them! Is that what you want?”

Miles’s heart is shattered into a thousand pieces when, in contrast to what he had expected, Alex merely shrugs. 

“Maybe this is n-not worth… surviving… anymore,” Alex mouths, looking utterly tired. Miles has been sensing his waning spark for a while now, but he had never actually thought Alex’s spirit to be crushed. “I mean… every day is a living nightmare. Miles, I…” Alex chokes slightly, fresh tears staining his eyes. “I’m risking your life… by staying alive…”

“No,” Miles whimpers, clutching Alex’s hand furiously, “no! That’s exactly what they want you to believe! Alex, please! You’re tired, you’re hurting – you don’t know what you’re saying!”

“I do!”

“No! You’re not thinking clearly,” Miles scolds him, “you are not yourself! They’ve tortured you, Alex. They’ve done the most awful things possible, I know that, but you – you can’t let them break you! You have been so strong. You have survived so much pain, so please – please, love – don’t do this. Don’t let them defeat you.” 

Miles has let himself get carried away with emotion and so has Alex. Sniveling weakly, Alex’s bottom lip wobbles, though he holds back his crying.

“I love you, Miles,” he breathes wretchedly, his hand limp in between Miles’s fingers, “I – I wish I could protect you…”

“I love you, too, Al,” Miles exhales, furrowing his brow when it all begins to feel painfully hopeless, “but I’m not the one who needs protecting. Just – just keep fighting. Promise me that. As long as you keep fighting, I will fight, too. And in the end, we can beat this thing. We will save each other.”

Alex looks unpersuaded, though he nods his head in agreement.

“Just p-promise me one thing,” he pleads finally. “Promise me… that you won’t d-die for me. Please, Mi… I’m serious.”

“Alex…”

“Don’t g-get yourself killed… trying to protect me.”

Miles inhales sharply, feeling the heavy burden pressing down on his chest.

“Neither of us will die,” he speaks with determination, squeezing Alex’s hand again. “I know it.”

Alex bites his lip, thinking.

“Do you think Taylor will die?” He asks unexpectedly, causing Miles’s jaw to drop.

“What?! Taylor? Why are you even mentioning that bitch’s name?”

“I don’t know,” Alex shrugs, though he tenses wearily, “I j-just think she’s playing a d-dangerous game, is all…”

Miles hesitates for a moment.

“Would you care if she died?” He asks cautiously, watching Alex’s expression. “Because I wouldn’t. That bitch got you into this mess, Alex.”

“I know,” he whispers. “B-but…”

“But?”

“In a weird way… I g-guess I’m hoping she’ll s-survive… after all.”

When Alex falls silent, Miles frowns. 

“She’s not important,” he reminds him jadedly. “You and me, love, we’ve got to fight for each other. And only each other.”

“Yeah,” Alex replies, smiling faintly. “Yeah, you’re right…”

“Here,” Miles says suddenly as he’s been trying to look for ways to keep Alex’s hopes up, “let me show you something.” Quietly, Miles reaches underneath the mattress in order to pull Alex’s old photograph out. Holding up the picture to Alex’s face, Miles holds his breath, wishing for the photo of Alex and his parents to bring them both back some forgotten strength. “I still have it. I kept it safe for you, Al.”

However, Alex is staring straight through the picture as though he isn’t even seeing it. His parents’ faces might as well be a couple of strangers that he doesn’t even recognise.

“Put it away,” he asks solemnly, turning his head to the side. Alex’s eyes are dull and gloom.

“What?” Miles questions with worry. “I thought – I thought you would want me to keep it?”

Once again, Alex shrugs.

“All it does is remind me of what I don’t have,” he murmurs.

And Miles puts it away.

 

*

 

When Miles finally gathers the courage to ask Alex about the night that he was tortured, he isn’t sure how to go about a subject so sensitive, so surreal. However, it’s not just the elephant in the room. It is something so crushing, so unbearably excruciating and unfair for Alex to revisit, although Miles cannot ignore what he knows. 

“Taylor told me everything,” he whispers suddenly. Though Alex has closed his eyes, pretending to be asleep, Miles knows that he isn’t. He’s still shaking all over. The pain has been keeping him awake for hours, denying him his much needed rest. Miles furrows his brow and lays himself down next to Alex as he longs to be close to him. “I know everything they did to you, Al,” he continues in a grave voice, observing the anxious look that’s fallen across Alex’s features as he opens his eyes, “I just don’t understand why. I mean… I can’t believe anyone would do that to another person. And you, of all people… You’ve never hurt anyone. You never did anything wrong. They are supposed to be your family for fuck’s sake. You deserve so much better…”

Miles feels as though he’s already misspoken. When Alex looks over at him nervously, he instantly feels guilty for dragging him through all this emotion. Like Alex doesn’t have enough on his plate as it is. 

“Love, I just…” Miles falters, holding his breath tensely. “I just want you to know how sorry I am. For what happened to you. I – I tried so hard to prevent it. I tried to negotiate. I tried to beg… I was powerless. I couldn’t do anything to stop it. I thought I would go mad when I heard you screaming…” Alex’s breath grows hitched, but then again, Miles never expected him to relive his horrors without reacting accordingly. “Sorry – I know this isn’t about me,” Miles sighs, “I just want you to know how worried I was. The idea of losing you… I don’t think I could have survived it.”

Alex blinks a couple of times, though there are no tears in his eyes. He’s so tired. He’s so broken, there’s no way that he’s prepared for another conversation.

“Miles…” He breathes quietly, shuddering evidently. “I’m sorry, but… Can we not? Can w-we not do this? Please?”

Miles presses a kiss to his forehead, playing with a strand of his hair in order to calm himself down. Alex welcomes his touch, it seems, though he’s unable to respond to it physically. Miles has been cuddling and caressing him countless times already, sometimes without uttering a single sound. What he cannot express to Alex through his words, he tells him through the stroke of a finger, or a cup of his cheek. 

Alex smiles faintly.

“I’m sorry you h-have to worry about m-me like this, Mi. I – I wish I could have stopped it, too.” 

“Alex, don’t you dare apologise…”

“All I’m s-saying is…” Alex takes in a deep breath, steadying himself. “I know that this is affecting b-both of us. You’ve b-been hurt, too.”

“Yeah, but, love – it’s not the same!” Miles bites his lip as he averts his eyes. “I don’t know why they do this to you. I don’t know why they do this to you and not me. It’s not fair. It’s not right. I – I don’t deserve special treatment. And – and you don’t deserve to be punished for crying out loud…”

“B-better me alone than both of us,” Alex tells him sincerely, though this isn’t an easy truth to admit. “Mi, if this means keeping you safe… I’d happily let them t-target me. Th-they are my cousins. M-my burden. You should have n-never been involved in this…” 

“Alex, this is so fucked up,” Miles moans and produces a desperate sob as he fails to contain his emotion, “this is so God damn sick… I – I wish I could hurt them back!”

“No, you don’t…”

“Yes, I do!” Miles cries. “I – I want to burn them like they burned you! I want to cut them, to – to stab them! I want strangle them, to kick them, to whip them, I want to punch all the teeth out of their mouths. I – I want to…”

“Mi,” Alex whispers, “this isn’t you. I know you’re a-angry, but… You are n-not violent. You are good and you are kind. The b-best person I know.” 

“I…” Miles’s mouth has gone dry and he isn’t even able to swallow. “I slapped Taylor,” he confesses reluctantly, though he doesn’t regret it. “I wanted to do more than slap her. I wanted her to feel just a small ounce of my pain, of your pain. She’s the reason that all of this is happening. I bet she isn’t even sorry.”

Alex watches him quietly and for once, Miles isn’t able to read his expression.

“I know you’re angry,” he says again, calmly, “b-but you are only m-making things h-harder on yourself, love.” Alex’s eyes are sympathetic and sincere. Miles cannot help but to inch closer to him. “They only take s-satisfaction in your anger, Mi. D-don’t give into it… Don’t m-make it worse on yourself.”

“There’s no way that I can not be angry,” Miles replies with a shake of his head, “no way.”

“You know, I’ve s-stopped asking myself why… I’m never going to l-learn to understand, anyway.” Alex pauses. “I’ve even stopped asking m-myself… how long… this is going to last for. Because o-only they will know. All I can do at the moment… is hope that m-maybe one day… they will stop hating me so much.”

Miles then remembers what Taylor told him so controversially.

“They don’t hate you, Alex. They envy you. You are everything that they are not.”

Alex doesn’t seem to care.

“I thought I was going to die that night,” he utters instead, his voice threatening to break. “I thought they were going to kill me. And if I died, they m-might have killed you, too, Mi.” Miles wants to appease him, to contradict his fear, but he cannot. It’s impossible for him to deny Alex’s reasoning. “I’ve n-never known so much pain before,” Alex admits, looking increasingly anxious. “I n-never want to go through that pain again… I – I don’t think I could survive it twice…”

Miles wraps his arms around him, pulling him in for a sorely needed embrace, though he must be careful not to make it hurt. He’s expecting Alex to cry, but once again, he remains quiet. Crying is too big an effort. He no longer has the energy. 

“I love you so much,” Miles whispers in his ear, because there isn’t much else that he is able to say at this point, “and I’m not going to let you die. Not like this, Alex.”

“Kiss me,” Alex responds knowing he isn’t able to do so himself. In other words – he’s tired of talking.

Miles leans in immediately and he kisses Alex as deeply and as passionately as he can, causing them both to moan when teeth collide and tongues are merging. Miles’s tongue slips into the other’s mouth easily and Alex closes his eyes with delight when he feels the warmth of it. It doesn’t matter that neither one of them is clean. It doesn’t matter that they haven’t washed, or shampooed, or even brushed their teeth. They are still tasting each other eagerly, finding comfort and affection in even the smallest of gestures. 

“Will you… will you hold me for a bit?” Alex pleads when they are forced to break apart, desperate for air. “Get under the duvet… with me…”

“Let me know if it hurts,” Miles advises him, though he couldn’t stay away even if he tried. Wrapping an arm around Alex’s shoulders rather than his injured waist, Miles brings their bodies together gently. Though he feels Alex’s trembling, he isn’t bothered by it. This way, they can keep each other warm and hopefully, Miles will be able to lull Alex back to sleep. “Are you tired?” He questions softly as Alex nuzzles in to his neck.

“Yeah…” Alex rasps, closing his eyes. “I feel like I haven’t slept… in weeks…” 

“Here. Lean on me.”

They settle down against each other and for a minute or two, they remain almost completely silent. Miles can tell that no matter how desperate Alex is for some sleep, the stinging and throbbing are going to keep him up. The anguish cannot be numbed without medication. Sleep has become something unachievable, something impossible. 

After a while, when Miles senses that Alex is still awake and twitching with torment, he says:

“Is it really true that the basement is soundproof? I mean… I heard your screaming, but obviously, the neighbours didn’t. My parents didn’t.” Miles frowns for a moment, thinking about how tragic it is to have his folks next door to him when they think he’s probably miles away from home. “It just baffles me,” he remarks. “How did Ruth have the time to prepare the basement for this purpose? She must have known that there would be… screaming. And that she didn’t want to be exposed. Was it always part of her plan to trap you down here?”

Alex hesitates. Realising that the topic must be making him uncomfortable, Miles is slowly beginning to regret his own curiosity.

“She didn’t prepare the basement,” he finally speaks exhaustedly, “she didn’t have to. It was made soundproof years ago.” Alex huffs. “Lucky for her… that was exactly what she n-needed…”

“I don’t understand.”

“My Dad… he was a m-music teacher,” Alex elaborates, his voice quivering slightly at the use of a past tense. “He used to practice his m-music down here… He used to p-play the guitar, or the s-sax… Lots of d-different instruments, I guess.”

“Oh. Right.” Miles cringes, feeling slightly stupid for not having figured that part out himself. “And I’m guessing he was worried that the neighbours would complain about the noise? That’s why he had the basement done. I mean, not noise – noise is the wrong word. I’m sure he was a good musician…”

“Don’t worry,” Alex chuckles weakly, “he d-did get a few complaints… before he had the walls done. But yeah. H-he was pretty good. I used to watch him play sometimes. The b-basement looked a lot different back then. There were carpets… heating… lights. Furniture. It… it used to be a h-happy place.”

“No offense,” Miles tells him, “I’m finding it a bit hard to picture right now.”

“He used t-to sing, too,” Alex continues, ignoring Miles’s comment, “he played me some of m-my favourite tunes. Lots of Beatles. That k-kind of thing. He even showed m-me a few chords… on the guitar…”

“You can play the guitar?” Miles asks with sudden interest, hugging Alex closer. “I never knew. You must show me one day, love.”

“M’not very good,” Alex shrugs, though he smiles at the other’s encouragement, “but if we ever g-get out of here… if Ruth hasn’t s-sold my Dad’s guitar yet… I can sh-show you.”

“I would love that,” Miles whispers, pressing a kiss to Alex’s hair. “I’m going to hold you to that promise.”

Alex smiles again, blinking sleepily.

“Believe it or not, Mi… This basement used to be one of my f-favourite places. I spent s-so much time with me Dad down here. He was always so happy… p-playing for me.” Alex inhales deeply. “I’m glad that he’ll never see… what Auntie Ruth has done to this place. She’s… She’s ruined it.”

Alex falls silent and so does Miles. Ruth has ruined so much more than just the basement, the house. She hasn’t only impaired and defiled some of Alex’s happiest memories. She’s gotten rid of almost all the stuff that reminded Alex of his parents. She’s denied him any chance of keeping the memories of them intact. 

She’s ruined Alex, too. In body and in spirit.

Miles shudders. If only David Turner had known what these rooms would be used for after his death. If only he had known the danger that his only son would be in. But then again, this entire development has been unimaginable. No one saw it coming. No one.

When poor David had those walls fixed in order to play his music, no one would have ever thought that Ruth Sharpe one day would take advantage and seize the opportunity to drown out the sound of Alex’s cries. Like Alex said, this was supposed to be happy place. A haven. A place of memories.

It was never supposed to be Ruth’s private torture chamber. 

 

*

 

The following day, Alex is feeling even worse. He wakes up feeling unbearably hot and Miles tells him that his fever must have risen. Soon, he is burdened by nausea, too. After Terry pops in with their breakfast tray and the entire room adapts the smell of eggs and bacon, Alex begins to feel his guts churning and the bile rising in his throat. 

“You’re probably just hungry,” Miles suggests. “Come on. You need to eat.”

Alex will do no such thing. Curling up in pain and grasping at his stomach, he writhes miserably until he is persuaded that he can at least drink some more water. While Miles has to assist him and help him to sit upright, Alex grimaces and allows Miles to work his body for him. When the bottle if lifted towards his lips, he has no other choice but to drink. Unfortunately, it isn’t long before he finds himself retching and gagging. Realising that he is going to be sick, Miles reaches for an empty soup bowl before Alex empties his stomach all over the mattress. Alex manages to hold the bowl in his hands rather miraculously considering his loss of muscular control and Miles holds him steadied, worried that he’s going to fall over. They somehow make it work. Alex vomits into the bowl without dirtying himself, or the bed, and Miles is grateful. He’s already covered the floor in puke once and the smell has been unbearable ever since; they certainly don’t need to make this a habit. 

Miles holds his breath as he carries the puke-filled bowl across the room, as far away from them as he can. 

“I’m – I’m sorry,” Alex sighs groggily, rinsing his mouth with some leftover water. When he sways dizzily, Miles hurries back to his side and throws an arm around him, keeping him balanced. “Do you think it’s the f-fever?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Miles sooths him, “you’re going to be fine.”

While Miles is helping himself to a bit of bacon and a slice of toast, making sure to leave the larger portion for Alex, Alex grasps at his stomach again, feeling his pain increasing. It feels like a hot flash, or a cramp, eating its way through his flank, causing him to double over. Alex pants in distress, closing his eyes. It won’t go away. No matter which position he tries, the cramping sensation intensifies. 

“Mi – I think I have to pee,” he whimpers suddenly, an urgent look falling across his face. “But it… it hurts…”

Dropping his food back unto the plate, Miles gets up from the floor and moves towards the door.

“I’ll call for someone to let you out,” he says, though he knows Alex won’t be able to walk to the bathroom on his own. He’ll need someone to carry him.

“No,” Alex utters with a shake of his head, “I don’t – I don’t think I c-can wait…”

Miles’s eyes land on an emptied water bottle that’s left from yesterday’s meal. Alex realises what he’s looking at when he begins to shake his head profusely.

“No – I know what you’re th-thinking,” he pants, looking mortified, “but – I can’t…”

“Al,” Miles speaks gently, reaching for the bottle, “it’s all we have. I mean, who cares? It’s just a bottle. It’s no big deal.”

“Easy f-for you to say,” the other huffs while his cheeks are already reddening, “this is humiliating…” 

“You’ve been through so much worse,” Miles reminds him. “Come on. Take a leak in the bottle, love. Do it for me.”

He grins subtly, but Alex is not amused.

“This is so… not funny,” Alex grimaces, biting back another sting of pain, “I feel so fucking… disgusting…”

“I’ll take your piss over your puke any day, though,” Miles jokes, walking over to him determinedly. Holding up the bottle in front of him, he persists: “Just do it. You’ll feel better for it, you know. Besides, there’s no one around to see it except me.”

“But I don’t want you to s-see it!” Alex gasps, scandalised. “Mi, please…”

“I have to help you, though.”

“But…”

“I promise I’ll still find you attractive,” he jokes again, pressing a soft kiss to Alex’s cheek. “It’s like that film Babel. You know, when the American woman gets shot in the desert and she’s lying on the floor in a tent, or in a house, I can’t remember, and she has to take a piss in a bowl in front of everyone. But it doesn’t matter. Because people are more bothered with trying to save her life than watching her urinate.” 

“That still doesn’t change the fact that… it’s embarrassing… needing help with – with this…”

Alex sighs. Though he doesn’t like it, he understands that he has no other choice. Miles supports him back against the wall and though Alex tenses when he has to carry his own weight, he doesn’t make a sound. He’s shaking so uncontrollably, Miles has to pull down his shorts for him. 

“You’re flinching when I’m touching you,” Miles remarks hesitantly. Though he doesn’t take it personally, he can’t help but to worry. Alex looks dead uncomfortable. “Are you okay? Is this okay?”

“I – I just wish you didn’t have to see me like this, is all…” Alex cringes, though he doesn’t look away. Miles’s hands are still on him and now he’s positioning the bottle in between his shaky legs. “I feel so… humiliated, I guess. For being weak.” 

“Hey, listen to me,” Miles says, giving him a serious look, “you are anything but weak, baby. You are strong. So strong,” he reaches a hand behind Alex’s neck in order to support his head. Then he leans forward, scattering a series of quick kisses along Alex’s black-and-blue jawline. “You are the strongest person I know,” he assures him. “You have nothing to be ashamed of. You’re injured. Of course you need help.”

Alex struggles to breathe even as Miles signals for him to go ahead. Though he’s more than ready to empty his bladder, he cannot.

“It… hurts…” Alex intervenes, holding himself back until it becomes unendurable. 

“Where?” Miles keeps the bottle in place, willing himself not to let go.

“Everywhere…”

Miles swallows hard, feeling clueless. 

“Just give it a try, Al,” he pleads. “I’m sure it’ll make you feel better.”

After another moment of encouragement and persuasion, Alex swallows his pride and begins to relieve himself into the plastic bottle. Though this is an odd satisfaction, Miles smiles gratefully, feeling like this is a small victory for the both of them. Miles is once again able to guide and support and as a result, Alex trusts him. If this doesn’t strengthen a relationship, nothing will. Alex is peeing slowly, almost soundlessly and Miles is courteous enough to look the other way – until, through a sharp cry, Alex jerks and contorts in pain.

“What?” Miles questions nervously, his eyes fixing on the other’s face as Alex twists with agony. “What is it?”

But Alex is biting his lip so hard, he’s unable to talk. His hand, however, touches at his right flank, directing Miles towards the source of his suffering.

“Let me see,” Miles whispers cautiously and Alex’s withdraws his hand, shuddering more violently than before. Only then does Miles notice that the area surrounding Alex’s kidney is so badly bruised that his skin has adapted a range of dark-purple, almost black, discolorations. This is without a doubt the result of Harry’s kicking him. “Oh my God,” Miles breathes, unable to mask his shock. He’s about to say something when the bottle in his hand catches his attention. Forgetting all about Alex’s flank, he finds himself conquering his own tactfulness that has been forcing him to avert his eyes. Now inspecting the urine worriedly, Miles cannot help but to swallow hard.

“What…” Alex wheezes with difficulty, “wh-what do you see..?”

“Alex…” Miles chokes as his stomach drops fast. “You’re… you’re pissing blood.”

 

*

 

In the neighbouring room, Taylor spends several days in isolation before Perry finds his way back to her. She awakes from her sleep one morning to find him standing suddenly before her, his face wet and pink with tears.

“Baby,” he whispers mournfully, reaching out his hand for her. “I’m sorry. I lost it – I crossed the line, I really did. I’m so sorry. I never should have accused you.”

She gets up from the floor like the first time, watching him hesitantly in order to ensure that he won’t run away again. When he stays, desperate for reconciliation, she understands that – finally – she has won back some of her power.

“Darling,” she tells him, throwing her arms around his neck excessively, “I’m the one who’s sorry. I – I missed you so much.”

“I did you wrong, pet,” Perry moans pathetically, smelling Taylor’s long hair, “I – I hope you can forgive a stupid fool like me.”

“There’s nothing to forgive,” she lies, holding him dreadfully close, “just – just take me to your room. Please. I – I want to be back in your bed, Per.”

Making him believe that she is reaching for his dick, Taylor snakes her hand into his trouser pocket. Perry falls for it immediately, believing her to be seducing him. However, it isn’t his member she’s interested in. It’s the set of keys that he wears on his body so carelessly. The set of keys that holds the power to Alex and Miles’s release.

“I knew you would understand, babe,” he sighs with relief, unbuckling his trousers gratefully, “I knew you would come back to me. I love you so much…”

“Love you so much, darling,” Taylor mirrors mindlessly – and grasps the keys without him noticing.


End file.
